Love Is In The Cauldron
by closeted-nerd
Summary: When Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger a paired together for a month long Potions assignment, it's the worst thing either of them can think of. However, will they feel the same way by the end of the month? What does the future hold for Draco and Hermione?
1. Chapter 1

The day had started normally enough. Hermione Granger had woken up on time, groggily pulled on her robes, tried to tame her frizzy brown hair to no avail, and joined Harry and Ron for breakfast, bickering with the latter whilst Harry stared into space, moodily contemplating whatever it was he brooded about these days. They all had Potions first up, so they all made their way to the dungeons, discussing various ways to get Snape to consume a Draught of Living Death. They took their usual seats and waited for Snape to make his _entrance_. Because the Potions master didn't just walk into a room; no, that wouldn't be dramatic enough. He _swept _in, his dark robes billowing behind him with a dark look on his face that commanded silence.

It was after Snape had made his entrance that everything changed for Hermione.

"Your final assessment will be an extremely advanced potion that will take about a month to complete. You will be working in pairs to brew this particular concoction, and your grade will be based on both the potion itself and your ability to work as a team," Snape was explaining.

"I notice that nobody has asked what exactly it is you will be making. Your answer is this: the Polyjuice Potion. "

At this there were groans, but Hermione felt relieved. She had successfully brewed a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion in her second year in a ladies bathroom using stolen ingredients, so using proper utensils and not having to steal from Snape's private store would make this assignment child's play.

At least, that's what she had thought.

"Oh, and there's one last thing," Snape said with a malicious smile marring his usually expressionless face. "I will be personally assigning your partners for the task."

Hermione's stomach sank. She had been counting on working with Ron or Harry. Snape was sure to pair her with somebody hopeless that would ruin her potion, like Neville Longbottom, or even worse, one of Malfoy's hideous cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

The Potions master was reading the partnerships from a long piece of parchment. He had assigned Harry with Neville, and Ron with Goyle. Crabbe was with Parvarti Patil, something the other girl was scowling in the corner about.

"Hermione Granger…," Snape intoned, glancing up at Hermione with malice glinting in his black eyes, "You will be partnered with Draco Malfoy."

"_Malfoy?" _ Hermione blurt out incredulously. Malfoy looked as though Snape had slapped him, and was facing her with a look of disgust twisting his pale features.

"Professor, you cannot _possibly_ expect me to work with that buck-toothed Mudblood for an entire _month._" Malfoy was saying to Snape.

"Don't call her that, you git!" Harry shouted.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter; open your mouth again and it will be twenty. Draco, three points from Slytherin for questioning my authority."

"Only three points? He called her a _Mudblood_!" Harry shouted.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and detention with me after school. I believe a nice scrubbing of the telescope lenses in the Astronomy tower will teach you to keep your big mouth shut." Snape snapped.

Malfoy smirked.

"Now, I expect O.W.L standard potions from all of you at the end of this month. You may begin."

And with that, Snape swept out of the room.

Hermione sat there, frozen to her seat. This couldn't be happening. No way was she paired with Malfoy, the vilest person she knew. No, this must be one of her failing-O.W.L nightmares. If she pinched herself, she'd wake up. She did, but all this accomplished was to leave a bruise on her thigh.

Okay, so this was real. Real and awful. She didn't even have time to process it, because Snape had told them to begin, and Malfoy was shooting daggers at her. She glared back and crossed her legs. No way was _she_ going to approach _him_. She had far too much pride and dignity. It appeared that Malfoy wasn't all too keen on approaching her, either, and they stayed like that, her with her legs and arms folded, him glaring at her and proudly smoothing his already slicked-back blond hair. They probably would have stayed like that all lesson, had Ron not leaned over and told her "One of you is going to have to do it, and I doubt it's going to be him. Time to take one for the team, Hermione." She glared at Ron so furiously that he actually looked taken aback. But Hermione realised he was right. With a sigh, she dragged her books and cauldron over to Malfoy's table and plunked herself down in the seat beside him.

He was looking at her with open hostility. "Do I have something on my face?" she snapped.

"Yeah," Malfoy sneered. "Right… oh, wait. That _is_ your face." At that, he laughed loud enough to push Hermione's nerves to the edge.

"Look," she spat, getting right in his face. "Neither of us is happy with this arrangement, but since I care about my grades, I'm not going to just give up. I need my Outstanding mark, and I need to brew this potion to get it, and you are going to help me and not just be a pain in the behind, or I am going to punch you right in the nose _just like I did in our third year_."

The reminder seemed to infuriate Malfoy.

"Listen here, Mudblood," he said scathingly. "if you think for one minute I'm going to let you lay one of your filthy hands on me ever again-"

"Lacewing flies and leeches," Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Malfoy looked baffled.

"I need lacewing flies and leeches. You know, for the potion. You go get them while I fill the cauldron with water and bring it to the boil."

_"You _go get the lacewing flies and leeches, I'm not going anywhere," Malfoy said petulantly.

"_Fine_," Hermione said exasperatedly. "You boil the bloody water then."

She slipped off her stool and headed toward the student store cupboard. Honestly, she thought whilst she was rummaging through the shelves, Malfoy was so immature, acting like a sulky child. It wasn't as if she was thrilled about the arrangement, but Malfoy was acting like the potion and the partnership was entirely her idea. Which was strange, Hermione mused as she found the leeches, because she knew quite well that Malfoy not only cared about his studies, but that his father was pressuring him to beat her. So why in the name of Merlin was he making this harder than it already was?

Having found both the lacewing flies and the leeches, Hermione made her way back to the table she was unwillingly sharing with Malfoy. As she sat down, she noticed that Malfoy had actually done as she asked and their cauldron was half filled with steadily bubbling water.

"What?" Malfoy asked nastily, noticing her surprise. "Just because I don't like _you,_ doesn't mean I'm not going to participate in the potion brewing."

"You're going to participate; you're just not going to make it easy for me, right?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

"Why on Earth would I make it easy for you?" Malfoy asked coolly, examining his reflection on the surface of the water.

Hermione shook her head, aggravated. "Shut up and juice these leeches," she told him, "While I quarter these lacewing flies. If you don't co-operate, the entire potion will be a bust and neither of us will get the mark we want."

Hermione quickly finished the lacewing flies and watched Malfoy juice the leeches. He really wasn't that stupid, she thought, examining the way his arm moved with the knife, his head bowed over his work, his hair falling in his eyes occasionally causing him to brush it back in frustration. His problems, she realised, started when he opened his mouth.

As if on cue, Malfoy looked up at her so suddenly she didn't have to look away.

"Have I got something on _my_ face?" he asked her rudely.

All of Hermione's charitable thoughts toward him disappeared. "I was just wondering if it was possible for you to juice those any slower. Really, a snail could have done a lap of the entire castle and made himself a cup of tea in the time it's taken you to juice five leeches," she told him scathingly.

"There are only five leeches to juice, idiot" he said slowly, as if talking to a pre-schooler.

Hermione didn't answer. Embarrassed, she took the vial of leech juice and added it to the cauldron with the lacewing flies and watched as the potion took of a distinct bottle-green colour, exactly as her Potions book had advised. Satisfied, she looked over at Malfoy, who was watching the cauldron with a proud look on his face.

"We need to stir it now," she told him, after having let it bubble away for exactly a minute. They both reached for the stirring spoon at the same time, and their hands brushed each other's. Malfoy jerked his hand back as soon as it happened, a dark look coming over his face.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, picking up the spoon and stirring the formula three times clockwise and once anti-clockwise.

The rest of the lesson passed in a haze. Malfoy and Hermione took turns to stir their potion, but neither reached for the spoon at the same time again. Once the bell had rung, Malfoy barged past her, knocking her bag off her shoulder and causing her books to spill everywhere. Ruefully, she bent down to pick them up.

It was going to be a long month.


	2. Chapter 2:

The rest of Hermione's week was relatively normal, with one exception: Potions lessons with Malfoy. The potion had begun to increase in difficulty, and as a result, tempers flared.

Hermione was just exiting the Great Hall after lunch and heading toward the dungeons for her Potions lesson when she spotted Malfoy exiting a men's bathroom just ahead of her. She knew he saw her, because he seemed confused for a minute before he shook his head and turned his back on her, his Slytherin robes flaring out behind him.

Hermione felt as confused as Malfoy looked. Usually he would go out of his way to call her 'Mudblood' or some equally rude name, but today he seemed less inclined to do so. Could it be possible he was experiencing the same confusion she was? Every time she saw him, she felt awkward and unsure of the correct etiquette. For the past week, they had been getting along better (apart from a few arguments), and whilst they may not be strictly enemies, they certainly weren't anything close to friends.

Hermione was mulling this over as she entered the dungeon. She could see Malfoy at their table up the front of the room, checking on their cauldron. It's funny, Hermione thought, all these collective nouns she was using. _Their _table. _Their _cauldron. _Their _potion. She was subconsciously including Malfoy in her academics, something she never did with anyone. It had always been _her_ work. The realisation shocked her as much as Malfoy's lack of insults did.

She walked over to the table and sat down beside him, like she had done for the past week.

"Malfoy," she said by way of greeting.

He nodded. "Granger."

Hermione started. It was the first time he had ever called her 'Granger' instead of 'Mudblood' or nothing at all. Things were changing, Hermione thought.

"Okay, so today we need to add the knotgrass and slightly more water, and then we let it stew for a week," she informed him.

"Can do. Hey, tonight's the full moon, right?" he inquired.

Hermione was confused. "Yeah," she said. "Why?"

Malfoy looked uncomfortable. "Well, it's just that the fluxweed has to be picked on the full moon, and I didn't know if you'd just bought some, or if you planned to pick it tonight or what. I mean, I'm not saying you have to do it, I can do it, but I wanted to know what your plan is."

"I was just going to buy some," she said.

"Well, see, I did some research, and apparently freshly picked fluxweed produces much better results than store-bought," he said.

"Yes, but where on Earth are we going to get freshly picked fluxweed?" she asked him.

Malfoy winked. "I know a place. Meet me by the entrance to the Astronomy tower at eleven o'clock tonight."

Hermione left potions class feeling breathless, like she'd run a race. Malfoy's wink had done funny things to her insides, making her stomach flop and her knees feel kind of… jelly. She watched him walk ahead of her, and couldn't help but notice the way he smiled at his mates, or the way his hair would occasionally fall in his face, causing him to push it back. She didn't understand how she could possibly be feeling this way toward _Malfoy _of all people, somebody who had made her life hard since they first met. And why was he acting so nice to her? He'd always been physically attractive, but he'd always been a huge git, too, which had easily offset his attractive physique.

But now- what? She didn't understand what was going on with Malfoy, but there was one thing she did know for sure: she was going to have to get Harry to let her borrow his Invisibility Cloak, and she was going to have to do it without mentioning Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy lay down in his bed in the Slytherin common room that night, mind whirring. He had called Granger by her last name today, instead of calling her 'Mudblood'. He was trying to convince himself that it was just an accident, but he knew better. He couldn't bear to insult her anymore. He wanted to call her something nicer, something that suited her. For the past few Potions lessons, he had been noticing _things_. The way her brown curls tumbled down her back, the way she could get so lost in her own head that he wanted to go in there with her and find out what she was thinking about, watch her incredible mind work. He knew it was wrong to be feeling these things for someone his father would call a Mudblood, but he couldn't help it.

Draco checked his watch. It was time to go meet Granger. He got up, pulled his green and silver scarf around his neck and headed towards the door of the Slytherin common room, but was stopped by Goyle.

"Oi, Malfoy, where you off to?" he asked in his deep, stupid voice.

"Why don't you mind your own business instead of snooping in on mine?" Draco snapped.

Goyle, looking affronted, stepped aside and allowed Draco to go through the door.

Heading down the corridor, he breathed a sigh of relief that nobody except the dim-witted Goyle noticed or tried to stop him. He was already nervous; he didn't want anybody trying to intercept him.

He rounded the corner to the left and headed toward the Astronomy Tower. He was shooting glances up and down the halls, checking for teachers and poltergeists alike, because if he got caught out of bed at this time of night, there would be a price, and Draco was determined to avoid scrubbing the chamber pots in the hospital without magic for detention.

He rounded another corner and saw Granger standing there, at the entry to the Astronomy tower. She had some sort of silvery thing bunched up in her arms. Her back was to him, so he snuck up behind her and, standing at her left shoulder, reached around and tapped her right one. She jumped and turned her head to the right to see who was there. When she realised there was nobody on that side, she whipped herself around to face him, glaring.

Draco smirked. "The oldest trick in the book, but everybody falls for it," he said in lieu of saying hello.

"Malfoy, you nearly killed me. I thought you were McGonagall or someone!" she said, with her hand over her chest as if to steady her breathing.

Draco nodded toward the silver bundle in her arms. "What's that you've got there?" he asked.

"This," Hermione said slyly, "Is an Invisibility Cloak. You didn't tell me where we were going, but since we are meeting alone at eleven o'clock at night in the most deserted part of the school, I figured sneaking around would be involved and so I made preparations accordingly."

Draco's face broke out into a broad smile. "Granger, that's brilliant! Does it work?"

"Of course it works, idiot," she said. "If it didn't, I wouldn't have brought it. By the way, are you ever going to tell me this brilliant plan of yours?"

Draco had spent the afternoon planning the exact route he would take to get what they needed and not get caught, and hoped to impress her with his thoroughness.

"I think I just might," he said. "Okay, so we're going to be using that Cloak, and we're going to sneak out to the greenhouses where we have Herbology. In the back of Greenhouse Two, there's a door that leads to a back room. That's where Professor Sprout keeps all her private plants that she grows for her own personal enjoyment. That is where we will find the fluxweed, bathing under the moonlight, ready for the picking. We will only take what we need, so that Sprout doesn't notice that anything's gone missing. We will then sneak back to the castle, and rejoice in our own devious victory. Sound like a plan?"

Hermione grinned. The sight of it made him feel funny on the inside, and he shook it off. He should _not _be feeling this way.

"Sounds like an excellent plan," she said.

Hermione walked over to him and threw the Cloak over the pair of them.

"Let's go."

And they made their way, together, through the door and out into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3: An Adventure

The night air was cold against Hermione's skin as she and Malfoy made their way across the school's grounds toward the greenhouses where they had their Herbology lessons. The Invisibility Cloak, whilst helpful, did nothing for warmth, just like being crammed under it with Malfoy did nothing for comfort. Although, if she was being honest with herself, Hermione rather enjoyed the feel of being all pressed up to Malfoy's broad, muscular back. She immediately chastised herself. She would _not _have inappropriate thoughts about Malfoy. He was a huge git- he called her Mudblood, he hexed her with beaver teeth, he made her life unpleasant whenever he could. But an annoying little voice in the back of brain reminded her about how he hadn't done any of that stuff for ages, reminded her about how he'd actually been polite, and on occasion, even friendly!

Hermione took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the chill night air. She mentally shook herself, clearing all thoughts of Malfoy and his friendliness from her head. She needed to focus. They were on a mission. She looked around her and noted with surprise that they had arrived at Greenhouse Two. Malfoy took out his wand, pointed it at the door, and whispered "_alohomora!"_ They both breathed a sigh of relief when they heard the lock click, and watched the door swing open with a faint groan.

They both stepped inside and shucked off the Cloak, letting it fall to the floor. It was even colder in here than it had been outside. Hermione shivered, hugging herself.

"Are you cold?" Malfoy asked.

"A bit, yeah. I was too stupid to put a jumper on," Hermione said ruefully.

"Here," Malfoy said, untangling his green and silver Slytherin scarf from around his neck and holding it out to her, "Take this. I've got a jumper on; I don't need it."

Hermione was so shocked at Malfoy's uncharacteristic generosity that she took the scarf without an argument. "Thank you, Draco," she said in a surprised voice.

"That's the first time." Draco mused.

"The first time what?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"The first time you've called me Draco. You usually just call me Malfoy."

Hermione blushed. She hadn't meant to slip up, but Malfoy's kindness in offering his scarf, as if he cared whether or not she was cold, had caught her off guard. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I can just call you Malfoy if you'd like."

"No, I like Draco. Nobody ever calls me that anymore. It's nice to hear my name."

There was a silence. Not an awkward one, but a peaceful one, as they stood there among the Mandrakes and the Knotgrass, bathed in the gentle light of the full moon, stretching out until Hermione remembered they had come there with a job to do. She turned away from Draco, whose pale features were washed out by the moonlight, turning his blonde hair paper-white, and headed toward the wooden door at the back of the greenhouse. Draco shook himself out of his reverie and followed her. They gently pushed the door open and got to work searching for the fluxweed.

Professor Sprout had all sorts of different plants in here, some incredibly rare. Hermione desperately wanted to take a closer look, but she knew that they had to get what they needed and get out of there as soon as possible. She was just examining a plant with silver-looking leaves when Draco whispered "over here!"

Hermione made her way over to where Draco was and pulled out the shears she'd brought along. The fluxweed was an odd looking plant, kind of like Muggle shallots, only a bright red colour with little white leaves running up the sides.

"How much do we need?" she asked Draco.

"Three stalks, including the leaves," he answered.

Hermione took the shears and snipped off three stalks from the back of the thick bunch of fluxweed. She was confident that Professor Sprout wouldn't notice the difference. She stuck both the fluxweed and the shears in the pocket of her robes and turned to face Draco.

"How did you know about this place, anyway?" she asked him.

Draco gave a naughty-boy kind of grin. "I'm a Slytherin," he said. "How did the Sorting Hat put it? _Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends_. I needed fluxweed, and I was prepared to do some exploring to find it. I also know where to find the powdered horn of a bicorn and shredded skin of boomslang when the time comes."

"Will it involve more sneaking around and late-night meetings like this one?" Hermione asked.

Draco dropped her a wink. "Of course. Now, we'd better head back to the castle. I'm not too mad about the idea of Professor Sprout catching us when she comes down here to do her midnight plant-watering."

Hermione laughed. She headed back into the main part of the greenhouse with Draco and picked up the Cloak. "This time, try not to walk so slowly in front of me!" she joked as she pulled the cloak over both of them. They headed back into the night, pausing to lock the door of the greenhouse behind them. Together, they made their way back into the castle and stopped at the Astronomy Tower. There they pulled the cloak off themselves and stared at each other in silence. This time, it was awkward. How did you say goodbye to somebody who was your mortal enemy not two weeks ago after having an adrenaline-filled night of sneaking around together, held together by a tentative friendship?

Draco was the one to break the silence. "Well, that was fun. See you in Potions, I guess?"

"Yeah," Hermione said.

He moved toward her suddenly, and locked her in a hug that she immediately returned. It was brief, but in those few moments, she could appreciate how he was the perfect height for her, his chin resting atop her head as he held her, her face pressed against his chest, where she could hear the steady beat of his heart and smell everything that was Draco; a spicy scent, like cinnamon mixed with cloves, mixed with soap and that pleasant boy smell that made her feel safe and happy. When he stepped back, he seemed as surprised as she.

"Good night, Draco, "she said.

"Good night, Hermione," he replied.

She turned around and headed off to the Gryffindor common room. As she was getting into her pyjamas, she noticed she still wore Draco's scarf. She decided to leave it on. It was cold, she told herself, and the scarf was comfortable. She curled up in bed, with her face pressed up against the scarf, and fell asleep breathing in the remains of the Draco smell that still clung to the green material.

**_So what did you guys think? Please feel free to review with suggestions! I have some ideas for the next chapters, but I don't want to give it all away yet! xoxo_**


	4. Chapter 4: uncharted territory

Hermione woke up with a strange sense of excitement, the kind you might feel when you wake up on Christmas morning and see a pile of presents at the end of your bed and just _know _you're going to get something good.

She felt like that, with her nerves buzzing and anticipation in her smile. She knew that things were going to be different between her and Draco, but she didn't know exactly what to expect. Hermione dressed herself and headed down to Great Hall for breakfast.

Harry and Ron were already seated at their usual spot and eating like they hadn't seen a meal in a week. She sat down with them and began her breakfast, a small smile still playing on the corners of her mouth.

"You're in a good mood today," Harry noted over the copy of the _Daily Prophet _that he was scanning.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Ron added, looking at Hermione suspiciously.

Hermione blushed. Was she really that easy to read?

"Oh, nothing," she answered. "Just…er… excited for the Quidditch match tomorrow."

Ron and Harry frowned at her.

"Hermione, since I know for a fact that you don't give a hoot about Quidditch, I'm inclined to think you're lying. And last time you were both flustered and lying, Viktor Krum was involved." Harry said.

"It's got nothing to do with Viktor!" Hermione said haughtily.

"Well, there's a guy involved. Who is he?" Harry demanded.

"Nobody you know. It's not a big deal or anything, don't worry about it," Hermione lied.

A look of pure jealousy crossed Ron's face. "First Vicky, and now this other mysterious guy. You sure get around, don't you, Hermione?" he said nastily.

Hermione tossed her head back proudly. "First of all, you git, I do not _get around_, and if I did, it wouldn't be any of your business. Second of all, you need stop getting all jealous every time I fancy someone." She informed him.

"I am _not _jealous!" Ron said.

"Then why have you got your panties in such a twist then?" she asked him.

Ron said nothing, but the redness in his face gave him away.

"While this is all very amusing," Harry said in a dry voice "we need to get to Potions, or we're going to be late."

Excitement skittered through Hermione's stomach, but she tried to keep her face neutral. "Yes, I want to get there early so that I can check on my potion before Dra – Malfoy arrives," she fibbed quickly, trying not to show she'd slipped up by calling Draco by his first name.

She got up and headed toward the dungeons, leaving an embarrassed Ron and a confused Harry behind her.

Hermione was the first person to enter the classroom. She was ten minutes early, so she pulled out her quill and set to doodling on a spare scrap of parchment she found smooshed at the bottom of her bag.

"Well, well," came a familiar drawling voice from behind her. "If it isn't my little partner in crime. How are you this morning? Exhilarated or exhausted?"

Hermione stopped doodling and smiled. She turned around and there stood Draco with a devil-may-care smile across his face, leaning on a table. His hair was slicked back against hs head, and his emerald green tie was loose around his neck, looking messy in a really hot way. She couldn't help but notice the way his Slytherin jumper hugged his figure, showing the definition of his muscular body.

She smirked at him. "A little bit of both, actually. Yourself?"

"I am both attractive and dishevelled, as usual," he replied coolly.

Hermione laughed. "Once you're finished with your self-worship, Draco, could you please do me the honour of sitting your butt down and helping me make this potion?"

Draco swung himself into the seat beside her. "Have you added our stolen fluxweed yet? He asked, peering into the cauldron.

"Shh!" She warned him. Other students were beginning to filter in and settle themselves at their respective tables.

"No, not yet," she told him. "I need to stir it for two and a half minutes before I add it. Then we kill time for the rest of the lesson while we let it stew."

"I could happily kill a lesson with you," he told her. "Got anything planned?"

She turned faintly red. "Not really," she said.

"Shame. I was looking forward to whatever devious plan your little brain had cooked up." He said, tapping a finger lightly against her head. Hermione felt hyper-sensitive where he touched her, as if an electric current had been running through his finger.

She handed him a cutting board and a knife, along with the fluxweed and told him "here. Instead of talking, cut these up and add them when I tell you to."

He immediately took the board from her and began the cutting-up process.

"So," he said whilst slicing, "You know how I was talking about knowing how to get my hands on powdered bicorn horn and shredded boomslang skin?"

"Yeah…" Hermione replied hesitantly.

"Wanna do that tonight?" he asked, somewhat cautiously. She could sense a layer of vulnerability and insecurity behind the cocky front he put up. He was just as unsure about this newfound friendship as she was.

"Sure," she agreed, feeling a little thrill of anticipation in her stomach. "Same time, same place?"

He nodded, smiling. She could see the relief in her face. He didn't want to mess this – whatever it was – up any more than she did.

Suddenly, they both heard a mini explosion behind them, and the back of their robes were splattered with what appeared to be some sort of goo. It ate away at the material, leaving holes in the fabric. Draco swore and began stripping off his robes, leaving him in his jumper with its loosened tie and his slacks. Hermione wasted no time in doing the same, pulling her robes off over her head and letting them fall to the floor. Her tie was askew and her hair had gotten messed up in her rush to get the acidic stuff – no doubt somebody's failed potion – off her. Draco was looking adorably messed up, and she chastised herself once again for falling for this boy.

He cleared his throat. "Your jumper," he said, and reached out a pale hand and adjusted her jumper, which had ridden up and was exposing a stretch of tanned skin. His fingers brushed the soft skin of her belly as he pulled the material down into it's correct position, letting his hand linger just one moment longer than was necessary, making Hermione feel weak-kneed. She looked from his hand up to his face.

"Thank you, Draco," she said softly.

He let his hand drop. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking vaguely… flustered. They both directed their gazes to the pile of black robes still smouldering on the floor. Nothing, mercifully, had landed on their skin or in their hair.

The source of the acidic potion turned out to be – surprise, surprise – Neville Longbottom. His face was bright red as he looked around at his splattered classmates mournfully. "Why is it always me?" he muttered, looking back into his empty cauldron. Harry was sitting next to his, Potions book open but riddled with holes from where Neville's potion hat splattered it. Harry looked upset, but patted Neville on the shoulder and said "It's alright, mate. It's a difficult potion. We can't all be geniuses like our Hermione here," he said, sending Hermione a smile.

Hermione felt guilty at that smile, because Harry had always been like a brother to her, and trusted her implicitly, and here she was, deceiving him by telling him that she fancied some guy he'd never heard of, when in fact, she was fancying none other than Draco Malfoy, the person Harry hated the most.

She returned his smile with a grim one of her own and turned back to her table. Draco was busy making sure that nothing had spilled into their potion.

"Everything good?" she asked him.

"Yes, thank Merlin. I would have _killed _Longbottom if he'd ruined our potion."

Hermione shot him a look.

"What?" he asked. "It's not like you wouldn't."

She half smiled. He was right, and he knew it. She set to work cleaning up the rest of the splatters of the table, which had enchantments to hold up if something like this ever happened, using the remains of their robes as cloths. When everything was acid-free, she sat back down with Draco. Just before the bell rang, he turned to her and said "We still on for our little adventure?"

"Of course," she said.

He grinned at her, rippled his fingers in a wave, and headed out the door. Hermione started to close her books, and noticed a little note peeking out from underneath her ink pot, written in small, familiar letters. She pulled it out and smoothed it with her fingers. It was very brief.

_See you tonight._

She smiled and tucked the note into her pocket, the words floating over and over in her brain.

_See you tonight._

**_Yay! A little bit more Dramione action! I'm worried I'm rushing the storyline a little bit, but I just cannot wait to get the Dramione action really going! As always, please review with your opinions/suggestions! xoxo_**


	5. Chapter 5: An Unexpected Turn Of Events

Draco walked toward the Slytherin common room, his cunning mind plotting his plan for the evening. He knew that this mission would be much riskier than the last one, but boomslang skin and bicorn horn cost a _fortune _to buy. He could have afforded it, of course – He was a Malfoy, after all – but, as unwilling as he was to admit it to himself, he much preferred meeting up with Hermione in secret, being crammed together under that invisibility cloak, and the adrenaline that caused him he to be more confident than usual, attempting things he wouldn't dare to try during the day. Like that hug, for instance. Draco knew that it was only a hug, but he couldn't get it off his mind. He couldn't understand why a simple hug of all things should linger in his brain, when Merlin knew he'd done much more with many other girls – Being the little Slytherin prince did have its perks, after all.

Still in his reverie, he muttered the new password ("Salazar") and directed his feet to his bed, where he kicked off his shoes and lay back on the emerald-green sheets, drawing the silver curtains around him so that he could have some privacy. He couldn't get that bloody muggleborn girl off his mind! Draco groaned out loud and rolled over so that his face was buried in his pillow. What a fix he'd gotten himself into. It was almost torture, knowing what he wanted, but also knowing that it was forbidden. He _wanted _to hold her hand and nuzzle her hair and put his arms around her slim waist. He _wanted _to be able to kiss her into oblivion, to get lost in the feel of her lips and the smell of her skin. He _wanted _to do everything you would do with somebody who was your girlfriend, but he _couldn't! _If his father found out, he would disown Draco.

He sat up straight. So what if his father found out? Lucius could deal with it. He knew his mother was dying for him to find somebody he cared about, and if that meant a muggleborn, so be it. He was going to do what he wanted to do. He was going to follow his desires. With a new resolve, he took is face out of the pillow and sat up. It was nearly eleven. Time to meet Hermione. He headed out into the common room and was about to walk out the door when a flash of colour in his peripheral vision stopped him.

The flash of colour he'd seen turned out to be a flyer magically appearing on the Slytherin notice board. He took it down and examined it.

Hogwarts Christmas Ball

Inspired by the success of the Yule Ball, this year Hogwarts will be hosting a Christmas Ball for its students on the 24th of December. Bring a date and your Christmas cheer to the Great Hall and make it an evening you won't forget!

Attire: Dress robes

Draco put the flyer back up on the notice board and smiled. The words _bring a date _swirled around in his mind as he walked to the Astronomy tower. He would love to ask Hermione, but he was unsure that she'd appreciate that. He'd need to advance their friendship a little further before he asked her.

He was first to the Astronomy tower this time. He leaned against the wall and prepared to wait for Hermione to arrive. Draco didn't have to wait long. Not thirty seconds later, he saw Hermione hurrying toward him, with the Invisibility Cloak and something green stuffed under her arm. She stopped when she saw him, and smiled.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

"Lead the way." She answered, gesturing down the hall.

Hermione's heart had tightened when she saw Draco, leaning against the wall with his foot propped up and his arms folded like a poster boy for Sexiest Slytherin Alive. She smiled and walked over to him. He stood up straight upon her arrival and smiled back.

"Ready to go?" he asked her.

"Lead the way." She answered. She threw the Invisibility Cloak over the pair of them and waited for him to start walking. Instead, he took her hand, and began leading her down the corridor. He kept her hand in his, and Hermione thought it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. She'd held plenty of boy's hands before, of course, but nothing had ever felt like this; her skin felt alive and electric, almost as though there should be sparks where their skin made contact. She tried not to smile too broadly or squeeze his hand too hard, afraid she might ruin it.

"Now," he said, whilst towing her along, "This is going to be a lot more risky than last night. Because tonight… tonight we steal from Snape's private stores."

"_What?"_ she asked, coming to a halt so abruptly that her hand came unclasped from Draco's.

"You said that it would involve _sneaking around, _Draco. Not suicide! Because that's what this will turn out to be if we get caught!" she screeched.

Draco whipped his head around frantically. "_Shh!" _he warned. "It won't do us any good if we get caught before we can even get into Snape's store room!"

"We're going to get caught anyway," she argued. "Snape isn't an idiot; he's not going to be fooled by an Invisibility Cloak and two teenage kids."

"Hey, hey," he said, gripping the tops of her arms. "We're not just _two teenage kids_. We are probably the two smartest magical students in this whole school. Not only that, but you're a Gryffindor; you're brave, and I'm a Slytherin; I'm cunning. Plus, I did a bit of snooping around and I found out that Snape is in a staff meeting at the moment, which finishes at 11:30. So we have a whole half hour to get a few little things from Snape's private store. The chances of getting caught are so low it's laughable. Okay?"

Hermione knew he was right. She was, after all, a Gryffindor; where had her courage gone? With a new resolve, she straightened up and looked Draco in the face.

"Okay." She answered.

He smiled, and trailed his hands down her arms until they rested in hers.

"Is this okay?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

She couldn't speak, so she just nodded.

"Let's go, then." He said, and began leading her down the hall again.

Snape's private store was located on the seventh floor, quite close to the Room of Requirement. They walked there together, his hand still in hers, until they came to a halt in front of a small wooden door. Hermione was beginning to feel nervous.

"I'll peek my head in to make sure nobody's in there," Draco whispered. "I'll nod at you if everything's clear."

She nodded. Anxiety was coursing through her like a tidal wave. The idea of Snape catching them terrified her. He would be furious. He would fail her. He would _expel _her. He would-

"Hermione!" Draco hissed.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, shaking her head to clear it of her fears.

"Come on!" he said, and held the door open.

Still under the Invisibility Cloak, they maneuvered their way through the narrow frame of the door and into Snape's private store room. It was no bigger than the pantry at her home in Muggle London, she thought, and filled with jars with simple labels on them, declaring them to be things like 'WOLFSBANE' and 'FLUTTERKELP'.

She scanned the shelves, looking for the ingredients they needed.

"There!" she whispered, pointing to a small jar in the top highest corner of the room that was labelled 'BICORN HORN'. She pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and walked over to the shelf. Even standing on her tiptoes, she couldn't quite reach.

"Here," Draco said, walking over to her. "I'll give you a lift up."

He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her a few inches off the floor; just enough for her to close her fingers around the jar and pull it toward her.

"Got it," she said, and felt him lower her back to the ground, but he didn't take his hands off her waist. They lingered there, warm even through the material of her robes. Slowly, Hermione turned around, and found her face very close to his; so close, in fact, that their noses were just touching. She felt dizzy at his nearness, and she could see that his eyes were dark with a kind of hunger, and could feel the warmth of his breath against her face.

She swallowed. "Um," she whispered, ducking her head. "Ex-excuse me."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Draco lowered his hands from her waist and stepped back. The rush of cold air between them seemed almost cruel, but she moved around him and got to work searching for the boomslang skin, her brain still foggy from what had just happened.

She spotted it on a perfectly reachable shelf not two inches to her left, clearly labelled BOOMSLANG SKIN. She grabbed it and tucked into the pocket of her robes, where it clinked against the other bottle resting in there.

"You ready?" she asked, without looking at him.

He nodded. She walked over to him and threw the Invisibility Cloak over them, and silently, they made their way out of the store room and down the hall.

"Hermione?" Draco asked once they'd reached the Astronomy Tower. It was the first time he'd spoken through the whole trip.

"Yeah?" she answered, relieved he'd broken the heavy silence that had sat between them ever since that near-kiss in the store room.

"When you met me here tonight, you were carrying the Cloak and something else, something green. What was it?" he asked her.

"Oh! That was your scarf. You gave it to me last night and I forgot to give it back to you. Here, take it." she said, untangling the green and silver scarf from around her neck, where she'd put it after they'd gotten under the Cloak.

"Keep it," he said waving the scarf away with his hand. "I don't need it; I've got hundreds."

"Draco, what in the name of Merlin's best trousers am I supposed to do with a _Slytherin scarf_?" she asked him incredulously.

"I don't know. Hide it. Sell it. Tie it in a bow on your bedpost." He drawled.

"For goodness sake, if you don't take your bloody scarf somebody is going to notice and start asking questions, which will be awkward to answer especially considering that we're supposed to be enemies." She said exasperatedly.

Slowly, he reached out and took the scarf from her.

"I know we're not enemies, Hermione," he began. "But are we friends?"

Hermione felt a faint blush creeping into her cheeks; Draco was more than a friend to her.

"Yes, I think we are." She answered.

"Do you… Do you think… that there could be more?" He ventured nervously.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

"I was wondering if… would you…" he stopped and took a deep breath. "Will you please be my date to the Christmas Ball?"

At first, Hermione was elated. She wanted to tell him _yes yes yes_, but reality took hold and brought her crashing down to Earth.

"Wow, Draco," she said. "I would love to, but… what would people _say_? How am I supposed to say to Harry and Ron 'Oh by the way, I'm going to the Christmas Ball with Draco Malfoy. Just thought you should know'. They would never forgive me! Well, Harry would, but Ron…" She bit her lip.

"So don't tell them." Draco said. "Just show up on my arm on the night and let them deal with it then."

She opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off very abruptly by Draco Malfoy's lips crashing down on hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, her body fitting perfectly against his. His mouth was warm and insistent against hers, causing her to melt on the inside. When he finally pulled back, it felt as though an essential part of her had been ripped away. He kept his head close to hers and whispered "Will you _please _go to the Christmas Ball with me?"

Hermione was only able to form one word.

"Yes."


	6. Chapter 6: Consequences

Hermione tiptoed into the Gryffindor common room, still on a high from Draco's kisses. She didn't know what it meant for them in the future, but she was excited to find out. Quietly, she started for the stairs that led up to her dorm room, when she was stopped by a very familiar voice.

"Hermione."

It was Harry. She hadn't seen him sitting there on the couch in front of the fire, so lost in her thoughts. Slowly, she spun around to face him. He was looking at her with betrayal and barley concealed anger on his face.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked her, waving a piece of old parchment in his hand. Hermione's stomach sank, but she tried not to look guilty, schooling her features into an expression of innocence and confusion.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked him, the picture of innocence. "Of course I do; that's the Marauder's Map!"

"Right," he said, his anger growing more profound every minute. "And do you know what the Marauder's Map does?

Hermione now felt sick. She knew that Harry knew who she'd been meeting, but she decided to keep up the charade. "It allows you to see Hogwarts and the going-ons of all its inhabitants. Harry, what are you getting at?"

"Never mind what _I'm _getting at. Let's focus on what _you're _getting at. Or rather, _who_. I've been watching you on the Map since you left. I know your little secret, Hermione Granger. I know that the boy you've been seeing is Malfoy." Harry spat, his face contorted in anger.

Hermione felt like she wanted to throw up. What she had with Draco was still so fragile, so uncertain, that she had no idea whether or not you could call it _seeing each other_, and she most certainly hadn't intended for either Ron or Harry to find out about it this soon. She was going to try her damnedest to get away with it, to pretend that she was doing no more than meeting up with Draco to grab some supplies for their potion.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, have you gone completely mad? How could you have possibly have come to the conclusion that I'm seeing _Malfoy_?" she asked him in an incredulous tone. "I met up with him tonight because we had to steal some supplies from Snape's private store cupboard for our potion, that's all. Nothing else happened."

Hermione hated lying to Harry.

"Really? Because you seemed to linger by the Astronomy Tower for a long time, Hermione. What were you doing? Jovially discussing the finer points of the Polyjuice Potion?" he asked her.

"Even if we did linger there for a while, Harry, what could possibly lead you to the conclusion that I was seeing Malfoy?" she asked him in a disbelieving tone.

"The look on your face when you came in. It was the same one you wore at breakfast this morning. Not only that, but your cheeks were flushed, and you had this stupid grin on your face. Plus, you were _humming. _Now look me in the eye and tell me that's not the sign of a girl who just made out with Malfoy."

Hermione slid to the ground, defeated.

"Okay," she said, tears blurring her vision. "Okay. Yes, I was with Draco tonight. Yes, he kissed me, and it wasn't repulsive. I don't know how it happened- I don't know how we became close, and I don't know if you could technically say that we're _seeing each other_. There's a lot that I'm unsure of Harry, but what I don't need at the moment is for you to hate me or judge me!" she finished semi-hysterically.

"But why _Malfoy?_ Do you just love the way he calls you Mudblood? Does it just give you chills?" Harry asked. There was a disbelieving note in his voice, and Hermione could tell that he had hoped he was wrong, and for her to confirm it stripped away what little faith he had left in her.

She was crying now, tears making hot tracks down her face, getting caught on her lips and leaving them wet and salty.

"I don't know!" she cried. "All I know is that he's gentle with me and he is almost as smart as I am, and we can have intelligent conversations, and he can tell when I'm cold, or sad, and he tries to fix it, and on top of all that he's _just so pretty!_" she was almost yelling, and Harry shushed her in an effort not to wake up the entire castle.

"I understand that we can't control our emotions, but why did you then go and lie to me? We're best friends, Hermione; I've always told you everything, even when what I was telling you was embarrassing or devastating." Harry said, sounding close to tears himself.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I didn't want you to hate me. I thought you would despise me and never speak to me again, you and Ron."

"That's another thing," Harry said with anger. "Ron. Merlin's beard, Hermione, you know that he fancies you! You know that he gets crazy jealous every time you so much as _look _at another guy…"

Hermione groaned. "Please, please, please Harry, do not tell Ron. If you never do anything for me ever again, at least do this. Just keep it to yourself until I tell him."

Harry's expression darkened. "Do you ever plan on telling him, Hermione? Or will you lie to him forever?"

"Of course I'm going to tell him! Just… not yet."

Harry sighed. "I haven't forgiven you, but I won't tell Ron. I'm going to bed. You can do the same." He said, and stalked past her without another word.

When Hermione woke up, it was with mixed emotions of both joy and sorrow. Joy over what had happened the night before and over seeing Draco in Potions that day, sorrow because of the argument she'd had with Harry before bed. They rarely fought, and they'd certainly never had a falling-out of this magnitude. Then again, she'd never made out with one of Harry's enemies and then lied about it before. She sighed. Today was certainly going to be interesting. She slipped out of bed and got dressed, thinking of Draco's scarf and half-wishing she'd kept it so that she had a little bit of that night to hold on to.

Resignedly, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall where Harry and Ron were having breakfast. She didn't know how Harry was going to treat her, and she wasn't excited to find out.

"Good morning, boys," she said when she reached them, taking the chair opposite the pair of them.

"Morning, Hermione," Ron replied.

Harry was studiously ignoring her. Ron looked at him a little oddly.

"Mate," he said, tugging on the sleeve of Harry's robes. "Hermione said good morning."

"I know." Harry replied, not looking up from his plate.

Ron looked at Hermione, then back at Harry and frowned. Eventually he shrugged and decided to change the subject.

"So, Hermione," Ron began, speaking through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "Have you got a date for the Christmas Ball yet?"

It was the wrong thing to say. She tensed up and glanced at Harry, who was glaring at her. Hermione decided to do what she'd done at the Yule ball and not tell him who she was going with.

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly.

Ron choked on his food. "Already?! But the flyer only came out last night!" he exclaimed, looking at her in a disbelieving sort of way.

"Yes, well, it would appear I get quite popular where these events are concerned." She said coolly, pretending to examine her fingernails.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Hermione shot him a look that said _do not tell Ron_. Harry pretended to zip his lips shut. Ron was oblivious to the exchange, still lost in his own little world.

"Who are you going with, then, if you get so popular?" he asked her in a challenging tone.

"I guess you'll just have to find out on the night, won't you?" She told him. Harry snorted. _That's it, _Hermione thought, rising to her feet.

"Harry? A word?" she hissed, pulling him to his feet and dragging him away. She pulled him to a stop in an abandoned corridor and rounded on him.

"Would you mind telling me why you've been treating me like a disease?" she hissed, getting in his face.

"Would you mind telling me why you've been whoring around with Malfoy?" he countered.

Hermione gasped. She couldn't believe Harry had just said that to her. He seemed to realize that he'd said something terrible, because he looked contrite.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered. "It's just that… I have a very uncertain life. I always have. But I've always had a few constants that never changed; that Voldemort killed my parents, that you and Ron are my best friends, and that we all hate Draco Malfoy. And now, you've ripped one of those constants from me, destabilizing me. How am I supposed to react to that?"

Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't realize how badly her relationship – if you could call it that – with Draco had affected him. She reached out and hugged him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she told him. "But can you at least… try to accept it for what it is? I never meant to hurt you, but it's unfair of you to judge me so harshly for my decision, especially since I've never judge you for any of yours."

"But how am I supposed to treat him now?" Harry asked desperately.

"The same way you always have. I'm not asking you to change anything. This is about me. You can go on hating him, and him you, but understand that just because you don't like somebody doesn't mean that I can't." She told him, trying not to let the tears that were welling up in her eyes to spill over. Merlin's beard, she hated arguing with Harry.

Harry let out a breath and ran his hand through his already messy hair in frustration. "I dunno, Hermione," he told her. "I need some time for it to sink in."

"Will you at least stop ignoring me?" she asked him desperately.

He sighed again. "I suppose so. Just don't expect me to trust you as much anymore."

And with that, Harry spun on his heel and walked away, leaving her alone in the corridor. Hermione slid down the wall on to the floor and put her face in her hands, the tears that had been threatening to come before finally spilling down her cheeks and leaking between her fingers.

**_What do you guys think? Please please please review and prepare yourself for some more ramione cuteness and friendship angst! Xo_**


	7. Chapter 7: Condolences and Clarification

Hermione didn't know how long she sat there, alone, with tears making hot tracks down her face before she was interrupted by somebody gently pulling her hands away from her face. At first she thought it was Harry, coming back to apologize and tell her he forgave her, but as she blinked the tears away from her eyes, she realized it was somebody else. Somebody with blond hair and a pale, pointed face, who smelled like cinnamon and cloves and an assortment of different spices.

Draco.

With a sob, she leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while she cried into his chest. Finally, after about ten minutes, he leaned back and pushed her hair out of her eyes, wiping away the excess tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

Hermione looked up at him. She realized that she had to know for sure what was going on between her and Draco in order for Harry to accept it and forgive her.

"Draco?" she asked him tentatively.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"What… what are we? I mean, we're friends, but now we're going to the Christmas Ball together, and you kissed me last night, and I kissed you back…" she trailed off into a nervous silence.

Draco was thoughtful for a moment. He, too, seemed unsure of where they stood.

"I've been thinking about that," he told her finally. "And I decided that I would tell you what I thought we were and then let you decide if you wanted that or not."

"And what do you think we are?" she asked him.

"Well, I don't exactly go around kissing all of my friends. So I guess what I'm saying is… if I had to call anybody my girlfriend, it would be you." He said, looking down at the floor.

Hermione put her hand under his chin and tilted his head up until he was looking directly at her. Then, slowly, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his. He made a surprised noise in the back of his throat but wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, tangling his fingers in her hair. His lips pressed firmly against hers, warm and rough, causing her blood to start pounding through her veins as the kisses intensified. Finally, she pulled away, both of their breathing ragged, with Hermione sitting in Draco's lap. She smiled against his mouth.

"That's what I think of that idea." She told him. He chuckled, and she could feel the vibration of his chest against hers.

She stood up, and straightened her robes and tie, which had gone askew, and pulled Draco up by his hands, which she kept clasped in hers.

"Come on, missy," he told her, tugging her down the hall. "We have a Potions lesson to get to."

Draco felt more alive than he had in weeks. He was still buzzing from Hermione's kisses, and his hand felt electric where it held hers. He was absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of her palm when she pulled him to a stop.

"Draco," she began, "we can't let people see us like this yet. I say we keep it quiet for a while and then slowly introduce the idea. It would be a shock for people to suddenly come across this" –she held up their interlocked hands – "when they thought we were sworn enemies."

"Alright," he agreed. "A good start would be to walk in to class together, friendly."

She nodded her head, dropped his hand, and together they headed down the hall that lead to the classroom in the dungeons.

They entered the classroom together, laughing at a joke Draco had made. They attracted a few funny looks, but not much else. They sat down at their work table, and Hermione pulled out their cauldron from under the bench. It had a distinct muddy look about it now, but not quite the correct consistency yet, which was to be expected, especially considering that they hadn't added all of the ingredients yet. She pulled the bicorn horn and boomslang skin from her bag and set them on top of the table.

"Here," she told Draco, handing him the boomslang skin, "This needs to be shredded. You work on that while I grind this bicorn horn down to a powder."

He nodded, and began working, his head bent low over the bench. She reached below the table for her utensils and felt a hand grab hers, interlacing their fingers together. She glanced up at Draco, who had one arm under the table and a slight smile curving his lips.

Hermione felt her own lips turn up at the corners, and she squeezed Draco's hand before letting it go. He looked at her quizzically.

"I can't work with one hand." She explained to him in a whisper. He nodded and pulled his hand out from under the table, feeling disappointed.

The rest of the lesson was uneventful. When the bell rang, Draco took his time to pack up his gear, waiting for a chance to talk to Hermione alone. He got that chance as she was walking out the door. He followed her, grabbed the sleeve of her robes and pulled her into a deserted corridor.

"What's up?" she asked him.

"There's something I wanted to ask you. Well, two things, really, but since I can ask you both questions at the same time I'm counting it as one thing." He told her.

"And…?" she prompted him.

"First of all, you never answered me this morning when I asked you what was wrong. So I ask you again: what's wrong?" He asked her.

Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she looked at the ground. "Harry found out about… y'know… _us_" she told him. "And he's furious. I'm pretty sure he hates me. He's not talking to me, in any case. And it's just awful because Harry and I have always been best friends; we've never fought, not like this. And now I've gone and ruined _everything_. I suck." She said dismally, her eyes looking suspiciously bright.

Draco was baffled. "How in the name of Merlin did he found out? _When_ did he find out?" he demanded. He was going to kill Potter for making her cry.

"Last night, when I came back to the common room, he was waiting for me. He was so angry at me for lying to him and for being with you." She explained.

"But, Hermione, _how did he find out_?" He asked again, frantic.

"Harry has a magical map of Hogwarts that shows not only the layout of the castle, but all its inhabitants. He found out as soon as it happened, thanks to that bloody map!" she cried.

Draco's stomach sank. "How many people has he told?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Nobody. I asked him not to tell." She said.

Draco was doubtful. "Do you think he'll keep your secret?" he inquired.

She nodded. "Of course he will. Even angry, he's still Harry. He won't betray me." She said with confidence. "Now, what about that second question you wanted to ask me?"

Draco grinned at her. "Why, I was merely wondering if you would like to accompany me on a date this evening." He said.

She smiled up at him. "I would be honoured to go on a date with you tonight." She answered.

"Excellent. I'll pick you up from your dorm room at nine." He told her.

"From my dorm room? How?" she asked him, confused.

He winked. "All will be revealed this evening, milady. Just be dressed and sitting on your bed at nine pm, sharp." He leaned in and placed a quick peck on her lips then strolled away, excitement coursing through his veins. He had a date with Hermione. A real one, not a stupid mission to fetch school supplies. He headed back to the Slytherin common room to while away the time of the free period he had next up. He wished that the day was over already so that he could be on his way to pick her up. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he picked her up this evening. With a grin, he flung himself onto a couch in the Slytherin common room and closed his eyes, imagining his evening with Hermione, but was interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Draco?"

He groaned inwardly and opened his eyes. Pansy Parkinson stood in front of him, a sugary smile pasted to her pug face. When she saw he was awake and looking at her, she gave a high pitched laugh and sat herself down in his lap, stroking his hair back off his face. He pulled her off him and moved his head to the side so that she couldn't reach it.

"Can I help you, Pansy?" he asked her, annoyed.

She pouted. "Dracooo, I never see you anymore! I'm getting _lonely!" _ She said, in her aggravating little-girl voice.

"Well, Pansy, maybe I don't feel like seeing you at the moment" he replied sharply. Merlin, he was so sick of Pansy! She was the clingy-est person he had ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting!

Draco got up and walked away, leaving a confused and slightly insulted Pansy Parkinson behind him, making his way to his dorm room, where he intended to begin the preparations for what he hoped would be the best date Hermione Granger had ever been on.


	8. Chapter 8: The Date

Hermione sat on her bed later that night, almost quivering with excitement. Every second brought her closer to her date with Draco, a fact that had made the day seem to go on forever. But, finally, that final bell rang after dinner, and she could make her way up to her dorm room to get ready. And now here she was, at 8:58pm, two minutes away from the arranged time. Nervously, she got up and walked over to the mirror to check on her appearance. She had used liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to tame her wild locks, and was wearing a warm dress that came down to her knees, paired with tights and boots. She was afraid it would be too much, but she couldn't just wear her robes, and she needed to be warm.

She checked her watch again and noticed that it read 9:00. Time for Draco to pick her up! She made her way over to her bed so that she would be sitting on it when he arrived, as he had instructed. She still couldn't fathom how he was going to pick her up from her dorm room, however. Hermione was mulling this over when she heard a tap on the window next to her bed. She whipped her head around and ran over to the glass, smiling broadly. Draco was on his Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomstick, hovering at her window like a knight in shining armour upon his noble steed. He had a huge smile on his face, and he signalled for Hermione to open the window. She did, and he maneuvered the Nimbus so that she would be able to get on to it through the window without falling to a gruesome death.

"_This_ was your plan? To come to my window on your broomstick like a young squire gallantly riding to his lady's house on his white horse?" she asked him, laughing.

"Exactly like that," he answered, and then leant through the window to give her a kiss. "Now milady, shall we?"

"We shall.' She said, and clambered through the window onto the broom behind Draco.

"Hold on to me!" he said as they accelerated. She quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, enjoying the feel of the hard muscles of his abdomen under her hands. Draco leaned forward, and the broomstick sped up, blowing back Hermione's hair and bringing tears to her eyes. It was amazing and exhilarating; the feeling of flying through the air with her cheek pressed into Draco's warm back to ward off the cold. They flew over the Quidditch grounds, did a lap around Ravenclaw Tower, and began to slow down when they neared the lake. Draco steered the broom so that they were flying just above the black water of the lake. Hermione reached down and let her fingers skim the top of the water, causing slight ripples to cross the surface. The water was shockingly cold, and she had to pull her fingers out because they were beginning to go numb. Draco was flying very slowly now, alerting Hermione that they might be nearing their destination. They were headed toward a thicket of trees that surrounded the lake, and Hermione began to wonder where they would stop. However, just before they hit the trees, he directed the broom to the ground. They got off, and she smoothed back her hair, which had gone wild from the wind.

Draco took her hand, smiling, and led her up the bank of the lake which they were currently standing on. He ducked under a branch and stopped.

"Welcome to my secret hideaway!" he announced, his arms spread wide and a gorgeous smile plastered to his face.

Hermione looked around in wonder. They were in a little copse of trees that sheltered them from the cold but awarded them to a full view of the lake, where the lights of the castle reflected off the water, looking magical.

"It's beautiful," she said, staring out across the water.

Draco walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Not as beautiful as you," he whispered, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her neck softly.

She blushed and looked down.

"I'm serious," he said between kisses, "you look amazing. You always look beautiful without even trying, and when you put a little effort in, you are a vision. When I came to your window tonight, I wanted to get on my knees and worship you."

Hermione felt dizzy, both from his kisses and his words. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her before, and she felt her eyes prickle with happy tears.

"So," she said, trying not to let on how much his words had affected her, "What's on the agenda for tonight?"

He grinned. Hermione thought she'd never seen him smile so much before. It never got old. His smiles lit up his entire face, set his aura buzzing with a steady glow of happiness, bringing colour to his pale cheeks and showing of his perfect teeth. He really was the most beautiful boy she'd ever seen.

"Come on. I'll show you." He said and pulled out a large picnic basket from the small pocket of the black suit he was wearing. She shot him a confused look, and then realization dawned on her. He had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Undetectable Expansion Charm, huh?" she asked him wryly.

"That would be the one." He answered.

"So we're having a picnic?" she said, eyeing the basket and the blanket he'd pulled from the pocket.

"A very romantic picnic with a few surprises along the way." He answered mysteriously.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Don't tell me." She said in mock annoyance.

In truth, she kind of liked the idea of handing control over to somebody else for a change. Hermione's entire life was just control and responsibility, and it was both wonderful and terrifying to let Draco take charge.

He spread out the picnic blanket beneath them, and set the basket on top of it. From it, he pulled put two mugs of butterbeer, some bread, a container of cream cheese, and a punnet of strawberries. Hermione watched his deft hands work as he sliced up the bread, spreading the cream cheese onto it and topping it off with strawberry slices. She looked at him dubiously as he set it in front of her with a mug of butterbeer.

"It's delicious, I promise." He said, biting into his food.

Hermione picked up the cheese and strawberry sandwich and took a tentative bite. The cream cheese was soft and warm, the bread amazing, and the strawberries exploded with flavour in her mouth. Draco was right. It was delicious. She sighed and took a sip of her butterbeer, letting the drink warm her insides as it travelled through her. Content, she laid back on the blanket, arms behind her head, gazing at the lights of the castle reflecting off the lake's surface.

"It's so beautiful here," She said, drinking in the feel of being here, alone with Draco in this magical place and its amazing food. On impulse, she rolled over so that her body was fitted to Draco's, who was lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand, watching her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and rolled onto his back, pulling her so that she was lying on top of him. He reached his hand behind her head and pulled her mouth down on his.

The kiss started out as gentle, but Draco didn't let it stay that way, his lips becoming fierce against hers, running his hand down her body until it rested on her hip. Hermione responded with equal enthusiasm, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen and the warmth of his skin.

When she pulled away, breathing hard, she noticed that her dress had ridden up to her waist, and Draco's hair was mussed from her hands. _You haven't seen anything, Harry, _she thought wryly. _THIS is what a girl who's just made out with Malfoy looks like._

Draco had propped himself up on his elbows and was gazing at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. His eyes travelled from her hair, to her face, which Hermione imagined was bright pink with swollen lips, down her body, lingering on her legs, where her dress was still exposing them. Flushing, she adjusted it back to its original position.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Hermione Granger," he said softly, still gazing at her. "I feel like the luckiest man alive."

Hermione looked at his pale blond hair, his sharp, pointy face, tinged with colour, his messed up suit jacket, his shirt which was still pulled up in places revealing his Quidditch-player body.

"You're not too bad yourself." She said breathlessly.

He sat up and pulled her against him. Not kissing her, just holding her, his face buried in her hair. After a while, she slid down so that her head rested in his lap. They spent the next hour or so just talking, with his hand stroking her hair. They talked about everything. Hermione told him about her family in Muggle London, describing the way Muggles did things, from telephones to computers to sports. He watched her with an enraptured smile on his face, taking it all in. Then Draco told her about being raised as a wizard, about life in Malfoy Manor, describing the pressure that was placed on his shoulders to act like a Malfoy should, being in Slytherin, marrying a pure-blood, spouting blood prejudice to anybody that would listen. Eventually he lay down too, and they were spooning like an old married couple. There was a stretch of silence that lasted for about ten minutes while they both lay there, lost in thought. Finally she heard Draco speak.

"Hermione, Merlin knows I would like to stay here forever with you, but as it's nearly midnight, we should get back."

She groaned. She was so happy to be here with Draco, where they didn't have to act for others, but she knew she had responsibilities. Quickly, she downed the rest of her butterbeer and handed the empty mug to Draco, who shoved it in his pocket with the rest of the picnic equipment. He stood up and reached his hand down to hers, pulling her onto her feet. Keeping their hands like that, they walked over to the broomstick together. Draco got on first, and then helped Hermione get on behind him.

Flying back with Draco was just as exhilarating the second time, and all too soon Hermione found them hovering outside the open window of her dormitory. He turned his head around and kissed her, a long, gentle kiss that made her insides turn to liquid.

"Thank you for a beautiful evening." She whispered against his lips. She slipped off the broomstick and into her dorm room, a giddy smile plastered to her face. She collapsed into bed, exhausted but excited. She had never felt so alive.


	9. Chapter 9: My Enemies are Your Enemies

It never seemed to matter how late she stayed up the night before, Hermione _always _woke up on time. This morning was no different. She got out of bed at promptly seven o'clock, and was embarrassed to realise that she was still in her clothes from the night before. She must have fallen asleep on top of the covers after Draco dropped her off.

Draco. She felt heat rising into her cheeks at the memory of their date the night before. It had been absolutely magical, and she'd never felt more alive. She never felt uncomfortable around him; he made her feel safe, but at the same time exhilarated and excited like she'd never been before. Handing the control over to him the night before had been terrifying and amazing at the same time. Letting him decide what to do and where to go was like a hiatus for her always-thinking brain.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself, remembering the way Draco had looked at her. Gently, she ran her fingers over her bottom lip, recalling the ferocity with which Draco had kissed her last night. She put her hands on her hips, where his hands had rested as he kissed her, trailing down her legs and back up again, making her skin tingle and burn, until finally his hands came to rest on her butt. The recollection made her skin feel hot and her heart beat faster, as it had done the night before.

Shaking her head to clear it, Hermione walked away from the mirror and over to her closet to get her robes on, stomach sinking as she thought of the day ahead. Where would she sit at breakfast if Harry was still angry at her? What if he'd told Ron? What if somebody had seen her last night? What if, what if, what if… the thoughts battered her weary brain like a nest of angry hornets, making her feel sick to her stomach. Slowly, she made her way out of Gryffindor Tower and into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Standing in the Great Hall, some of Hermione's anxiety eased when she saw that Ron was waving to her across the room, gesturing to the seat beside him with his usual enthusiasm. So Harry was still keeping her secret. Hermione wondered how long it would last. She cast her eyes across the Hall to the Slytherin table, where Draco sat, spooning scrambled eggs into his mouth. She caught his eye, and he dropped her a wink, and after checking that nobody was watching them, blew her a kiss. The sight of him warmed her insides, and with lighter footsteps, Hermione made her way over to her usual seat with Ron.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron greeted her through a mouth of pancakes and syrup.

"Try swallowing first, Ronald?" Hermione replied with a grin, sitting beside him. Harry was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Harry?" She asked, coldness flooding through her veins again. This couldn't be good.

Ron just shrugged, swallowed, and said "Dunno. He flew out of our dorm pretty quickly this morning. Blimey, Hermione!" he exclaimed, leaning in and looking at her.

"What?" She asked self-consciously.

"What's that on your neck?" He asked, pushing her red and gold Gryffindor scarf for a closer look.

Merlin's beard! She couldn't possibly have a – a _hickey_, could she?

"It's nothing, Ronald," Hermione replied, flustered. "It's a bruise. I tripped over."

"And landed on your _neck_?" He asked incredulously, clearly not believing her.

"Yes," Hermione replied, trying to look dignified by putting a forkful of eggs in her mouth, attempting to exude a demeanour that clearly said _stop talking_.

Jealousy twisted Ron's features suddenly. "Is this your mystery guy, Hermione? You have a hot date last night? Did you stay at his place, Hermione? Is this a walk-of-shame morning? I bet he's just using you for your brains."

Hermione slapped him. It was so fast, so unexpected, that the look of shock on Ron's face was almost comical. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring at her hand in horror. She couldn't believe what she'd done.

"Ron… I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, fluttering around him. "I just… you were being so mean, and I got so angry so suddenly, and I don't know what got into me, but I just felt like hitting you, but I usually never would, but I… I'm sorry!" She said again, voice shaking. She didn't want to lose another friend, even if he could be a git sometimes.

Ron held his hand to his face, anger replacing the shock. "Bloody slut," he spat, pushing his chair back and standing over her. "I'm sick of you screwing around with every guy who gives you a smile or says please. I'm going to make sure you have no friends left in this school, you hear me? Nobody. Have a great life, bitch," he said, before stalking away and leaving Hermione alone.

Eyes blurry with tears, she looked across the room at Draco. She could tell he had seen the whole spectacle, and heard what Ron had said. She jerked her head to the nearest deserted corridor in a _come with me _motion before fleeing out of the Hall, sobbing.

Draco caught up with her when they were a long way out of sight of anybody else. He pulled her into his arms and Hermione sank into his chest, breathing in his spicy Draco-scent, crying silently. They stayed like this for a while before she heard Draco whisper "I'll kill him. I swear, I will kill him."

Hermione pulled back, shocked. "No, Draco… It was my fault. Don't hurt him."

Draco snorted sarcastically. "Hermione, I heard what he said to you. You were right to hit him. If he was any sort of a man, he would have apologised instead of going all You-Know-Who on you. He's a jealous coward, Hermione. He doesn't deserve to be in your intoxicating presence."

She smiled up at him. He looked down at her, a question in his eyes. She answered by looping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to hers.

Hermione could never get bored with kissing Draco. It was electric, it was awe-inspiring, it was exhilarating, and it was even better because it was forbidden. The way his lips moved on hers, their tongues dancing together, tasting each other, exploring each other, was a new adventure every time. He tasted like eggs and pumpkin juice and that underlying Draco taste that was exclusive to him. He backed her against the wall, his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him, lowering his hands until they rested on her butt, squeezing gently. She trailed kisses from his lips down his defined jawline, kissing his neck and then returning to his mouth, nipping gently at his bottom lip. He groaned into her mouth and pulled her tighter against him, kissing her more deeply. Her hands roamed down the sculpted muscles of his back, tugging on the bottom of his shirt, sliding her hands under his top to feel the gorgeous planes of his chest. Breathing heavily, they both pulled away, keeping their noses touching. The normally steely colour of his eyes had darkened to a stormy grey as he looked into her own hazel eyes.

"You are amazing, Hermione Granger," Draco said softly. "Don't listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. Also, I hate to ruin this moment, but Snape will have our heads if we don't get to Potions on time," he added, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling.

Hermione was hyper-aware that he hadn't moved his hands from their resting place on her butt. She was also hyper-aware of the fact that she didn't want him to move his hands. Disappointingly, though, he did.

"Right. Potions. Snape. Ron. Harry. Ugh," she said, lacing her fingers through his and tugging him down the empty corridor toward the dungeons where they had their Potions lessons. When they neared the classroom, Draco ruefully let go of her hand and flashed her a twisted smile. Hermione sighed. She knew why they had to hide; she just didn't like it.

They got settled into their seats ten seconds before Snape swept into the room.

"Today," the Potions master said in his usual monotone "you will continue working on your potions. I assume _most _of you have almost achieved the required consistency," he said, shooting a scowl in Neville Longbottom's direction, causing him to slide down in his seat, shaking.

Snape's gaze swept over everyone in the room, settling on Draco and Hermione and their excellent potion brewing on the table in front of them. His features lifted into surprise before quickly settling back into their trademark scowl.

"Well, well, well," Snape began nastily. "Draco, I'm surprised you've managed to create such an outstanding potion while being paired with Miss Know-It-All here."

Draco's back straightened. "Her-_Granger_ has actually been quite beneficial to the making of this potion, sir," Draco said. Hermione's heart soared. Draco was standing up for her!

Snape looked stunned as he turned away from them and swept out of the room.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Hermione didn't see either Ron or Harry, which relieved her and scared her at the same time. That night, Hermione collapsed into bed, exhausted from the emotion turmoil of the morning. She rolled over and sat up suddenly when she heard a crinkle under her pillow.

Curiously, she lifted her pillow and saw an envelope resting there. She flipped it over. No send address. No writing at all, actually. This had come from inside the castle. She ripped open the paper and pulled out a piece of standard classroom parchment. Written on it, in black ink were words that chilled her to her core. Shaking, she dropped the letter onto the floor and climbed into bed, throwing the covers over her head, certain she wouldn't sleep with the words floating around and around in her head. At about 3am, Hermione drifted off into an anxious sleep with the letter still printed behind her eyelids:

**I saw you with him. You're a little whore. I'm watching you now, Mudblood. Every time you think you're alone, think again. Your life will be worth nothing pretty soon, Mudblood slut. Sweet dreams, bitch.**


	10. Chapter 10: Face the Music

Of two things Hermione Granger was absolutely certain.

First, that she was in danger.

Second, that she needed to make up with Harry and tell Ron the truth.

Her stomach sank at the thought of what she must do, but she knew that she couldn't work through this – the anonymous hate mail promising harm to her – by herself. She needed her best friends back. There had been a new message this morning, somehow slipped into the pocket of her robes:

_Remember, Mudblood. I'm watching. You will be nothing soon enough. I will kill you and wipe out your tainted existence from the Wizarding world as well as the filthy Muggle one. Watch your back._

The words had made her stomach turn over and caused sweat to bead up on her forehead. She had shoved that note, as well as the one from last night, in her robe pocket to show to Harry and Ron when they forgave her.

_If _they forgave her.

Sighing, Hermione made her way up the staircase of Gryffindor Tower that led to the dorm room that Harry and Ron shared. She paused outside the door of their room, then, taking a deep breath, knocked loudly once, twice, three times.

She heard footsteps inside the room, the muffled sound of male laughter, before the door swung open to reveal Harry standing there with his hair sticking up everywhere as usual, looking dishevelled with his tie askew and his top buttons undone.

_He looks like his father, _Hermione thought.

Being the studious person that she was, Hermione had researched about James Potter, finding out his ancestry and how successful a wizard he had been. She had seen pictures of him holding the Quidditch Cup, laughing, while Sirius Black ruffled his hair and Remus Lupin stood to the side, embarrassed at having his picture taken alongside Peter Pettigrew, who was looking eagerly up at James and Sirius. The resemblance between James in that photo and Harry now was striking. The only difference was his eyes. He had his mother's bright green eyes, contrasting against his black hair.

Those green eyes now were cold as he stared at her, silent. From behind him, she heard Ron say "Who is it, mate? If it's Neville again, looking for that bloody toad, tell him to bugger off. I'm tired."

"It's not Neville," Harry said in an even voice, devoid of emotion. His tone was so odd that Ron pushed into the doorway beside Harry to see who it was. When he saw it was her, his face went blank with shock.

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

Hermione cleared her throat, which felt thick and unusable. "I just… Can I talk to you?" she stammered, anxiety coursing through her like a tidal wave.

Harry pursed his lips, thinking, before nodding once and stepping out into the hall with her, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall, face unreadable.

"Talk," he said.

"I'm sorry," she began, her voice strong. No more crying.

"I lied to you, and I went behind your back when you deserved the truth, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry if my relationship with Draco upset you, Harry, but who I date is my business and not yours. And it certainly isn't your place to get angry at me for my choice of partner. I am here to apologise for lying to you and going behind your back, and to ask for your forgiveness and your friendship again, Harry, because I really need you right now. You and Ron, who I am going to tell the truth to as soon as I'm done talking to you. Just be my friend again and give me one more chance with your trust. Please." Hermione said in a rush, trying to get everything out in the open before he began yelling at her.

Harry stood there silently, looking at her. Certainly not yelling. Just accusing silence.

"Say something," she begged, looking up at him.

Harry let out a long breath that she hadn't realised he'd been holding. The blank mask dropped from his face, revealing a hurt so deep that it choked her up.

"Hermione, I…." Harry began, running a hand through his already messy hair, "I'm not angry at you anymore. Just hurt. But I understand. I'm glad you apologised. Just promise me you'll never lie to me again."

"I promise," Hermione said with conviction. She meant it. She would never break Harry's trust again.

"Then… I forgive you. Just don't expect me to get all buddy-buddy with Malfoy," Harry said, his voice lighter.

Hermione laughed, giddy with relief. "I don't care if you tear up his homework or something, Harry. You don't have to change. Are we friends again?" She asked, uncertainly.

Harry smiled and reached out to ruffle her frizzy hair. "Of course," he said.

Hermione sighed. "Now I just have to tell Ron," she said dismally.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," he said. "'I'll be there with you. He'll be angry at first, but he'll come around. Trust me."

"I do," she said, gratefully.

With that, Harry opened the door to his dorm room where Ron was waiting and ushered her inside.

Time to face the music.

"_WHAT?!"_ Ron exclaimed, jumping to his feet, face bright red.

"Please tell me I heard you wrong, Hermione! Please tell me you're playing some sick joke!"

Hermione shook her head, eyes down at her feet.

"So you mean to tell me that you've been seeing Draco Malfoy? _The_ Draco Malfoy? Tall, pale, pointy face, white blond hair, looks like a git and acts like one too? The Draco Malfoy who calls you Mudblood? The Draco Malfoy who has been our worst enemy since we stepped off the Hogwarts express in our first year? _That_ Draco Malfoy?" Ron shouted, pacing around the dorm room frantically.

Harry was leaning against his bedpost, watching Ron's outburst with a concerned expression on his face. Hermione was perched on the end of Ron's bed, eyes downcast.

"Mate," Harry began, reaching out and grabbing Ron's forearm. "I understand why you're angry – believe me, I understand. But this is Hermione's choice, and we can't hate her or slander her because of it. It's not fair to her. Can you just calm down for a minute so that we can discuss this?"

"Calm down?" Ron asked incredulously. "Calm _down_?" She's getting around with _Draco Bloody Malfoy_!" he spat, throwing his words like weapons towards Harry.

"That might be true, but Hermione needs us right now, mate. She still has to explain what she means by that, however," Harry said, throwing a glance in Hermione's direction.

Hermione lifted her head. The notes. The threats.

"Somebody's been leaving my anonymous hate mail, threatening my life," Hermione explained in a scared tone. "Somebody who knows about me and Draco."

"What? When?" Harry cried, moving over to sit next to her.

"There was one last night and another one this morning. I don't know how they got into my room, because only Gryffindors can enter Gryffindor Tower, and I can't think of anyone in Gryffindor who would want to hurt me," Hermione explained.

Ron looked shocked. Harry looked ashen.

"Hermione, we've got to report this!" Ron exclaimed, his rage forgotten.

She shook her head. "If one teacher knows, then the rest of the faculty and then the school will find out about me and Draco. No," she said, "We're going to work this out on our own."

Draco Malfoy paced around on the plush silver-grey carpet of his Slytherin dorm room, mind racing with panic and anger. Hermione had told him earlier about the threatening hate messages that had been appearing, and he was livid. How dare somebody threaten her? If he found out who it was, he would kill them. Literally.

He would do anything to keep her safe. He was going to find out who was leaving the ominous notes, no matter what it took. And he meant that. Hermione had warned him that it could involve working with Potter and the Weasel, and he had readily agreed. Anything to keep her safe.

Draco checked his watch. He was supposed to meet Hermione at Hagrid's cabin at seven. They had decided that it wasn't safe to meet at the Astronomy Tower anymore – they had to meet somewhere new each time. Potter was going to walk her to the cabin. They had agreed that Hermione was not to be alone at all anymore. She had protested at that, but in the end practicality had won out. He knew she was scared. This was how to keep her safe.

Draco reached Hagrid's cabin at seven on the dot and saw two figures making their way toward him down the hill, one with very frizzy hair and one with very messy hair. Hermione and Potter. Potter's face was twisted into a scowl when they reached Draco, and handed Hermione over with a simple nod, before turning and walking back the way he came. Hermione took Draco's hand and led him toward the greenhouses, where they were going to spend the evening.

As soon as they got inside the empty greenhouse, Draco backed her against the wall and caught her up in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and hungry, pouring all of his fear and anger and passion and uncertainty into the embrace, pulling her tighter against him, kissing her harder, down her neck and nibbling at the edge of her jaw, causing her to giggle.

"That tickles," she whispered against his lips.

"Good," he said, catching her mouth with his again, kissing her fiercely, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Hermione responded with equal passion and enthusiasm, yanking up the bottom of his shirt to trace the defined shape of him, lightly digging her nails into his back. He made an odd moanish noise, and slowly moved his hands under her shirt.

Hermione froze up at the feeling of his hands on her skin. She'd never gone much farther than kissing with a guy before, and this new sensation stopped her in her tracks.

"Is this okay?" Draco whispered?

Mustering up her courage, she nodded, and returned to kissing Draco with a passion that couldn't come close to describing how she felt about him, letting his hands roam under her shirt. When they finally pulled away, their clothes were rumpled, their cheeks flushed, their lips swollen and their chests heaving.

"That was… intense," Hermione said.

"If it was too much, I'm sorry," Draco began. "I'm just so scared for you and I needed to feel you alive and safe in my arms. We don't have to do that again. I'm sorry," he babbled.

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips to keep him quiet. "It was perfect," she said softly, combing his hair back with her fingers.

Draco sighed and pulled her into a hug, holding her close. They stayed like that for about a minute until Hermione gently pulled away.

"We have a job to do," she reminded him.

They had decided earlier that they were going to discuss who was behind the threatening notes. With a sigh, Draco pulled back and leaned against a bench of potted Mandrakes, folding his arms across his chest.

"Right," he said. "Do you have any theories?"

"Well, I have one," she said, "but it's kind of a long shot.

"It's the only shot we've got," he reminded her.

"Well, I was thinking: It has to be somebody with a fair amount of blood prejudice, right? So that makes me believe it could be a Slytherin. Sorry," she added, seeing the look on Draco's face. "You know it's true."

He sighed. "You're right," he said. "Continue. I love watching that beautiful brain work."

"Well, I thought it could be a Slytherin, but how would a Slytherin know the password to Gryffindor Tower? And how could they get in there without being spotted? I can't think of any student who would be powerful enough or skilled enough to cast an invisibility spell that would last any longer than ten minutes. Which made me think it could be an adult. And since the only adults at our school are teachers, then it must be a teacher. And the only teacher with enough power and blood prejudice to fit the description of my stalker is… Snape.

After a long silence, Draco said "You're right. It is a long shot."

"It's the only theory we've got to work on, and you've got to admit it makes sense," Hermione said.

"Of course it makes sense. I just can't believe that Snape would…." He trailed off into silence. Hermione remembered that Snape was head of Slytherin House, and that Draco was probably close to him. She felt a pang of pity toward him.

"I'm sorry if it's hard to hear, Draco. It just makes sense."

He put his nose close to hers. "I know," he whispered, and then took her hand and led her out of the greenhouse and into the castle.

Harry met them in the doorway of the Great Hall at the appointed time, ready to pick her up.

"I feel like a child," Hermione complained, but secretly she felt glad that somebody was protecting her. Truth be told, she was scared. Draco kissed her goodnight, just a peck, but it was enough to set Harry's mouth into a thin line of anger and disgust. Draco dropped her a wink and walked away, leaving her with Harry, who silently walked her up to her dorm room in Gryffindor Tower.

"Goodnight, Hermione, he said, opening her bedroom door for her.

"Goodnight, Harry," she replied, closing the door between them and turning to face her bed – and gasped.

Her red Gryffindor curtains had been shredded. They hung in tatters over the open window of her room – the window she had closed before she left. Sitting on her bed, as if on display, was an unsealed envelope. Fingers shaking with trepidation and fear, she pulled out the letter inside and read it.

_Not even close. Keep guessing, Mudblood. You haven't got much time left._

The room spun around Hermione. Her breath came in shallow gasps, as if she couldn't get enough air. She was hyperventilating. She collapsed into bed seconds before her knees gave way completely and pulled the covers over her head. She was shaking all over, tears blurring her vision, as the words played over and over in her head.

Knowing she would never sleep alone, Hermione conjured up her Patronus and gave it a message to deliver: _Come to my window._

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione heard a knock on the window she had just closed. She sprang out, wand at the ready, before seeing who it was. Relieved, she put her wand away and opened the window, letting Draco fly his broomstick into her room and dismount. He took in the scene before him: shredded curtains, note left open on the floor, promising her demise.

He pulled Hermione into his arms.

"Will you sleep with me?" She mumbled into his chest.

"Of course," he replied, and led her over to her bed, pulling her down so she lay beside him, spooning him. He held her tightly until she finally drifted off to sleep, keeping watch over her, more protective than any Patronus ever would be.


	11. Chapter 11: Close Encounters

_**I'm back guys! Sorry it's been so long since I last updated, I got stuck with final exams and formal and schoolies and my 17**__**th**__** birthday and stuff – but I finally graduated so I'll be updating a lot more frequently. I love you all so much and please review! I hope you like the chapter, give me some feedback! Much love xxxxxx**_

Hermione leaned back in the stiff wooden chair she occupied and stretched, rubbing her sore eyes. Across from her, Ron was asleep on the table, snoring softly, while Harry rested his chin in his hand, his eyes drooping. She couldn't blame them. They'd been cooped up in the library for six hours now, going over their notes on her mystery stalker. She still hadn't completely ruled out Snape, because he fit all the criteria, but that last note had said she was wrong. Then again, Hermione reasoned, if she was a stalker and somebody had guessed her identity, she would certainly deny it. Hermione stretched and yawned again. Once again, her thoughts were going in circles. I need to rest, she thought, letting her eyes droop and her head drop onto the table… and was suddenly being shaken awake. Hermione jumped around and pointed her wand at the person who had awoken her, only to drop it when she saw who it was.

"Draco," she whispered, letting him pull her into his arms. "What time is it?" she asked, looking around. The library was dark and Harry and Ron were still asleep on the table.

"One o'clock in the morning," he answered. "Hermione, I've been looking for you for hours! You didn't turn up for dinner, and then you didn't turn up for our date… I was so worried!" he said, holding her tighter.

"I'm so sorry, Draco!" she said into his chest. "I was going over my notes again, and I fell asleep!"

"It's okay, honey. I was just scared that your stalker had found you."

"No, I'm fine," she said. "But I'd better get to bed."

"Did you want me to wake those two?" Draco asked, nodding over at Harry and Ron with a wicked grin.

Hermione laughed. "No, they'd probably hex you. I'll do it," she said making her way over to where the two boys slumbered.

"Harry, Ron," she whispered, shaking their shoulders. "Wake up. We fell asleep. We need to go to bed."

Harry moaned and sat up, looking confused, his hair messier than usual and his glasses askew. Ron sat up too, and Hermione giggled at the bright red sleep circle imprinted on the side of his cheek.

"What's going on?" Ron mumbled, scowling at Draco. "Why is Malfoy here?"

"We fell asleep," she explained. "Draco found me and woke me up. I woke you two up. We need to go to bed."

Ron staggered to his feet and helped Harry out of his chair.

"'night, Hermione," Harry mumbled, stumbling out of the library with Ron behind him.

"'night," she responded, turning back to Draco.

"Come on, 'Mione," he said affectionately, grabbing her hand. "I'll walk you to your room."

"Okay," she agreed sleepily, letting him lead her out of the library.

Hermione was troubled. It had been two weeks since the night of the shredded curtains, and she hadn't received another letter. Most people might find it relieving, but to her, the silence felt ominous. At night she felt eyes on her, but when she turned around, nobody was there. She was jumpy and anxious and downright paranoid. She was startled by the smallest sound and heard footsteps in empty corridors. She had started taking sleeping potions to help her at night, but all they did was trap her inside her nightmares, unable to wake up.

In short, she was a mess.

What made it so much worse was the fact that the Christmas ball was tomorrow, and she was dreading it. Well, not the ball itself – hanging out with Harry and Ron and, of course, seeing Draco in his dark grey robes, the exact shade of his eyes – that, she was looking forward to. But the ball was loaded with undesirable possibilities, all relating to her finally coming face-to-face with her stalker and Hermione meeting her untimely end. Yes, she was terrified.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror in her dorm room in her red-and-gold- striped Gryffindor pyjamas, examining herself. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was extra frizzy and devoid of any shine it might once have had. She had lost a few kilos due to stress, so she was skinner, her ribs more prominent.

How on Earth am I going to make this ball-ready by tomorrow? She thought. Shaking her head at her reflection, she clambered into bed and closed her eyes, preparing herself for the onslaught of nightmares that were sure to come.

Hermione awoke with a shudder. The dreams of the night before had been particularly terrible – she had been wearing her ball gown, but it was dirty and torn and bloodstained, and she stumbled through the Forbidden Forest while a dark, faceless pursuer took chase behind her, wielding a bloody club. Shaking off the remnants of her nightmare, she got out of bed to face the real nightmare – the Christmas Ball. Once a topic of excitement, now inspiring feelings of dread. Slowly, Hermione put on robes and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Breakfast dragged. Hermione nibbled on her toast while Ron practically inhaled his eggs and bacon, and Harry chatted excitedly about the ball. He seemed very moony over the fact that he was taking Ginny. That made Hermione smile to herself. She was glad those two were making some progress. Ron, on the other hand, was taking Lavender Brown, something he seemed mildly put out over. Not devastatingly so – a date was a date, after all – but Hermione got the feeling he would rather go with someone who wouldn't be trying to eat his face the whole night. Hermione, of course, was going with Draco, who had sworn to protect her. That had made her feel slightly better, but not enough to quell the queasiness that was hounding her. 

Usually, class would help Hermione get her mind off her stalker, but Dumbledore had cancelled all classes to allow students to get ready for the ball. So she had an entire day stretching out ahead of her, with nothing but beautifying to keep her mind busy. Sighing, she got up from the table and headed toward Gryffindor Tower. It was time for her date with Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

Six hours later, Hermione stood in front of her mirror, surveying herself. Her hair was smooth and shiny, and swept into and elegant updo. Chandelier earrings hung from her earlobes, and her lips were painted a bright red. Her eyes were smoky and her cheeks were well-defined. Her dress was a brilliant purple, hugging her figure down to her hips, where it flared out into layers of tulle. There was no sign of the stressed, hungry – looking girl of that morning in her reflection. The stress was all on the inside.

She checked the clock on the wall and noted with dread that it was time to meet Draco. She was anxious to be in his arms, but she didn't want to go to the ball and possibly face the person who had been threatening to kill her. Not only was she worried about that, but tonight was the night she was making her relationship with Draco public. She was certain that that would be a nightmare and that she would become the butt of a lot of jokes and snide comments.

If she lived the night.

With slightly trembling hands, Hermione headed down to meet her boyfriend.

Draco looked gorgeous. His dark grey robes brought out his eyes, and they swept magnificently to the floor, and were paired with a white bow tie that made him somehow look taller. Her heart stopped and restarted at the sight of him standing there waiting for her. When he caught sight of her, his eyes widened and he drew her into his arms. He leant down so his mouth was brushing her ear and whispered "You look like royalty. I feel like I should be on my knees worshipping you."

The combination of his words and his breath tickling her neck wiped away any anxiety showing up with him might have caused. Emboldened, she kissed him and hooked her arm through his, pulling him on their way to the Great Hall.

When they reached the doors, Hermione's anxiety had returned. She took a deep breath and turned to face Draco.

"Ready?" she asked him.

He nodded nervously and pushed open the doors.

For a minute there was no reaction. People went on laughing and chatting and eating and dancing. Then, one by one, they fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Then the whispers started. Draco and Hermione slowly made their way to the table they would be sharing with Harry and Ron between stares of anger and disbelief. People were pointing and whispering while Hermione kept her head bowed, and Draco kept his head high and proud. It took a solid ten minutes before the normal level of conversation resumed. By that point, Hermione felt sick.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she told Draco.

"Be careful," he said, giving her a kiss.

She nodded and ran to the nearest empty corridor that held a bathroom. She stood in front of the sink and splashed cool water over her feverish face. She was starting to feel better when she heard a voice close behind her.

"Hello, Mudblood."

Hermione barely had time to reach for her wand when crippling pain seized her body and forced her to the ground. Blackness descended on her vision like a veil. The last thing she saw was a wand pointing at her and a face whose features were twisted in anger.

Pansy Parkinson.


	12. Chapter 12: Confrontation

Pain was everywhere. It raked across Hermione's body like a million tongues of fire licking her skin and burrowing into her muscles, contorting them until she lay on the ground twitching. The agony didn't stop there, though. It continued, burrowing deeper into her bones so the pain was attacking her from the inside as well as the outside. Dimly she was aware that she might have been screaming – or she wanted to scream, at least. The agony was making her sick. Her stomach roiled, and she fought to keep herself from vomiting and adding to her own discomfort.

Hermione didn't know how long it went on for – the agony, her screaming and clawing at her hair in an effort to escape the torture – when suddenly, everything ceased. The pain. The blackness. She gasped and sat up, shaking. She barely had time to lean her head to the side before she threw up everywhere. When her stomach was empty, she looked up into the face of her attacker.

Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy grabbed her by the hair and shoved her against the ground, her knee pressing against Hermione's sternum. She grinned wickedly, her pug face stretching out.

"Go on, Mudblood," she hissed into Hermione's face. "Ask me how I did it. Ask me how I got into your dorm room. How I knew where you were at all times."

Hermione shook her head – and screamed. The pain was back, clawing through her body and invading her mind, pushing her to the edge of insanity. She couldn't think to reach for her wand – she didn't even know where it was. Then, just has suddenly as it had arrived, the pain disappeared.

"You might want to reconsider disobeying me, Mudblood," Pansy cackled. "That was just a taste of what I can do."

Tears were streaming down Hermione's face as she gasped out "How did you do it?"

"I'm so glad you asked!" Pansy said, and pressed her knee down harder onto Hermione's sternum. It was now difficult to breathe.

"When Professor Snape paired you and Draco for that blasted assignment, I was jealous, but I didn't think anything of it. Draco is from a proud line of pureblood wizards, and you're just a filthy little mudblood. I saw the disgust in his face when he accidentally touched you. I saw how much he despised you, you buck-toothed little nerd. And I was happy. _Crucio_."

The agony returned. Hermione's back arched against the floor as she screamed, belatedly realising what it was that was causing the pain – The Cruciatus Curse. The pain stopped again, leaving her panting with Pansy's knee still pressed to her chest.

Pansy continued as if there had been no break. "But then he stated to change. He was secretive. He would brush me off as if I was nothing. He stopped looking at you with that disgust. So I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. I stole a rather large vial of that perfect little Polyjuice Potion you and Draco had been cooking up in Potions and pinched a hair off a little first-year Gryffindor girl. It was a simple matter from there to follow Draco and find out what it was he was doing. And I saw him. And I saw you. And he touched you. Voluntarily. He kissed your filthy mudblood lips with more passion then he ever did mine. So I decided that you needed to be punished. I followed you everywhere, disguised as that curious little Gryffindor girl, and sent you those notes."

Despite her discomfort and exhaustion, Hermione was curious.

"How did you get into our dorm room?" she asked. "Only Gryffindors know where it is or what the password is."

A scream clawed its way out of Hermione's throat as the torture returned. This time it went on longer than before, leaving her nails bloody and broken from clawing at the ground before it stopped.

"I will be the one doing the talking, Mudblood! You do not speak unless I tell you to! Nod if you understand!"

Hermione nodded mutely, chest heaving.

"Although you were out of line, I'm glad you asked that too, Mudblood. And because I am proud of myself, I will give you the answer. Given that I was disguised as a nervous little first-year, it was not completely unbelievable for me to forget the password for my dormitory – that idiot Longbottom does it all the time. Remember that I had already been following you for ages, so I knew where the Gryffindor dormitory was. From there it was a simple matter to ask a third-year Gryffindor boy what the password was because _silly, forgetful little me had forgotten it_!"

Hermione waited for Pansy to continue, but it seemed like she was out of steam.

"You may speak," Pansy said.

"What are you going to do with me now?" Hermione asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

Pansy grinned. "You already know, Mudblood. I already told you. I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to have fun doing it."

Hermione lay there, helpless and terrified, as the wand came up again and the agony returned.

Draco was worried. Hermione had been gone a long time – nearly twenty minutes, according to his watch. Even Potter and Weasley had dropped the scowls on their faces, replaced by looks of anxiety and concern.

"Do you think she's okay?" Potter asked him.

"I'm going to go check," Draco said, pushing his chair back and standing up."

"I'll come with you – you might need some backup to get her out of there," Potter said, standing up too.

"I'll join you, Harry," Weasley said, looking worried.

"No, Ron," Potter said, putting his hand on Weasley's shoulder. "One of us has to stay here in case she comes back.

Weasley scowled at being left behind but nonetheless sat back down in his chair.

"If we're not back in ten minutes, send Dumbledore," Draco said to him. "This could be beyond us."

Weasley nodded and Draco and Potter turned to the hall Hermione had taken.

"There's a ladies' bathroom down the end of the corridor," Potter said as they entered the empty hallway. "She might have gone there."

"That's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, isn't it?" Draco asked.

Potter nodded.

"Which would mean it's completely deserted," Draco continued.

Potter nodded again.

"Which would mean nobody would hear her scream," Draco finished.

Potter nodded and pulled out his wand, readying it. Draco copied him as they headed around the final bend in the hallway – and broke into a sprint as they heard the unmistakable sound of Hermione's agonized scream coming from the bathroom ahead.

Hermione was only aware of three things: Pansy kneeling on her chest, the pain clawing its way through her body, and the fact that she was going to die. She knew that there would be no break from the Cruciatus Curse this time, that she was going to suffer until the pain killed her or until Pansy got bored and finished her off with the Killing Curse. Hermione was hoping for a quick ending, but with the manic smile on Pansy's face as she increased her torture, Hermione didn't think that was going to happen.

Pansy twisted her wand, strengthening the curse until Hermione felt pain in places she didn't know possible – her teeth, her toenails – even her hair hurt. Hermione was screaming louder now, screaming and crying as all the different kinds of pain snowballed into something so unbearable she wished for Death to claim her as its own.

Then, just as Hermione felt her sanity slipping, the weight on her chest disappeared along with the incredible agony. Hermione rolled over, coughing and gasping, until she vomited again, forcing her to wipe her mouth with her sleeve of her now torn up ball gown. She rolled back onto her back, exhausted, welcoming the unconsciousness that she could feel creeping up on her until she was snapped out of it by somebody frantically saying her name.

"Hermione! Hermione! Baby! Please, open your eyes, please, please, please, open your eyes, you're okay honey, please stay with me…"

With a herculean effort, Hermione forced her heavy eyelids open and saw a frantic face inches above hers, on the verge of tears. When he saw her eyes open he gasped and drew her into his arms, shouting "She's okay! Potter, she's alive!"

Draco.

Over Draco's shoulder, Hermione could see Harry restraining Pansy while she screamed obscenities at him.

"Have you got her wand?" Draco called out as he held Hermione against him, breathing heavily.

"It was the first thing I took!" Harry called back, forcing Pansy to her knees while she continued swearing at him.

"Get that thing out of here," Draco snarled. It took a minute for Hermione to realise what _that thing_ was, and then comprehension dawned on her – he meant Pansy.

Harry nodded and dragged Pansy, snarling, out of the bathroom.

"Come on," Draco said gently, lifting Hermione into his arms. "Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey."

Draco was feeling a combination of panic and rage. Panic for the poor, broken girl that he loved lying limp in his arms, and rage at the sadistic bitch who put her in that condition. He knew that Potter had taken Pansy to Dumbledore's office, where she would face her punishment, which he hoped would be severe. Draco was carrying Hermione to the hospital wing, where he knew she would be well treated.

Draco rounded the corner into the hospital and was descended on by a frantic Madam Pomfrey.

"Merlin's beard! The poor thing! What happened to her? Put her down here!" She demanded, gesturing to a vacant bed. Draco could understand her panic – Hermione looked awful. Her nails were broken and bloody, and there were claw marks down her arms and face. Her hair was matted and her lip was bloody where she had bitten through it. Her dress was dirty and torn, and through the tears, he could see a massive bruise blooming on her chest – possibly a cracked rib. Madame Pomfrey was now mixing up a concoction of herbs and a foul-smelling liquid that stung his nostrils.

"Explain," she said, gesturing to Hermione's unconscious form.

"It was the Cruciatus Curse, combined with some physical abuse," he said with pain in his voice. It physically hurt Draco to see Hermione like this.

"Merlin's beard!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "Why would somebody want to do that?"

Draco took a deep breath and explained everything while she worked on Hermione. Pansy's suspicion. The notes. Hermione's fear. Her long bathroom break. How he and Harry had found her, pinned down on the ground by Pansy, screaming and clawing her face and body to escape the curse Pansy was putting on her. How Harry had taken her to Dumbledore's office. When he finished, Madame Pomfrey's face was ashen.

"The poor thing," she whispered, looking at Hermione's inert form.

"Will she be okay?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "I've done everything I can for now. I'll do more once she wakes up. Right now, the best thing for her is sleep."

Draco took a deep breath. "Can I… can I stay with her?" he asked

Madam Pomfrey's face softened. "Usually I would say no, but… she needs to feel safe. Pull up a bed. I'll turn off the lights. Sleep well," she said, and with a flick of her wand, extinguished the torches that lit the room and left.

Draco carefully eased himself into Hermione's hospital bed and wrapped his body around hers, making sure he could feel her breathing against him. Brushing her hair away from her neck, he leaned in and whispered softly into her ear.

"I love you."

Deep inside an exhausted sleep, Hermione smiled.


	13. Chapter 13: Justice?

Hermione was having a most wonderful dream.

She was lying on her side, sleeping so deeply she wondered if she would ever awaken. Her back was very warm, and it took her a minute to figure out why – there was a person beside her. A person with a very familiar muscled chest, long legs which were tangled with hers and a defined bicep that her head rested on. He smelled _wonderful_ – a heady spicy scent, like cinnamon. She knew that the boy lying down next to her in this dream was Draco, and he was sleeping beside her like she had fantasized about so many times. Dream-Draco leaned over and brushed her hair away from her neck, kissing her gently, flooding her with warmth. His lips lingered over her ear as he whispered the three magic words that either of them had yet to say in real life: _"I love you."_

Hermione awoke to the sound of someone saying her name and pain through her body. Blearily, she opened her eyes and moaned as she realised where she was – the hospital wing. Her heart rate increased and panic flooded her body as she sat up, gasping, while the memories of her torture came rushing back, engulfing her until she felt like she couldn't breathe. The panic increased until she was thrashing her arms around blindly, her vision blurred by tears. She felt somebody try to restrain her and she swiped at them, screaming.

"Get away! Get away from me!" she sobbed. The panic engulfed her until a familiar voice cut through the chaos in her mind.

"Hermione! Hermione, it's me! It's Draco!"

At the sound of his voice and his name, she stopped thrashing and allowed him to draw her into his arms, crying gently.

_Draco's here,_ she thought, relaxing her tense muscles._ I'm safe._

When her panic had subsided, Hermione became aware of how sore she was. She felt like she had been run over by one of those armoured vehicles they had in the Muggle world, dragged along the bitumen and done the world's most intense workout, all at the same time. It was the kind of sore that left you exhausted. Just as she began to voce her pain with a moan, Madame Pomfrey came bustling over, stirring some kind of concoction in a mini cauldron.

"There now darling, how are you feeling this morning? A little sore?" she asked as she began to distribute the liquid into a cup for Hermione to consume.

"My body hurts all over," she replied, gladly taking Madame Pomfrey's brew and desperately hoping it was some kind of painkiller.

"That's to be expected," Madame Pomfrey began as Hermione took the cup from her and began to drink.

"What's wrong with me?" Hermione asked, handing the cup back to the older woman. Draco watched her with a worried expression.

"Well the Cruciatus Curse is a lot like any other injury – it hurts the most at the time, but you will still feel sore afterwards. Since this particular curse attacks every part of your body, you are going to feel especially sore for a couple of days before it fades. Since your body has been under so much stress, with your muscles clenched so tight, it almost feels like you've run a marathon, doesn't it?" She asked Hermione, who nodded. "Just like if you _had _run a marathon, you're going to be pretty exhausted for the next couple of days. You'll need lots of rest, but you might find you have trouble sleeping due to nightmares as a result of increased levels of anxiety, common in those who have suffered the Cruciatus Curse. I'll give you a potion to calm your nerves and prevent nightmares." Madame Pomfrey explained, examining the scratches on Hermione's face.

"These aren't serious, but I'll disinfect them just to be safe," she said with a smile in both Hermione's and Draco's directions.

"What about her ribs?" Draco asked anxiously. "They were pretty bad when I carried her in."

"My ribs?" Hermione asked, mystified, peeking through her tattered ball gown and spotting a large white bandage wrapped around her midsection. "How did I miss that?" She mumbled to herself, confused. She hadn't felt any specific pain in that region.

"You had two cracked ribs from Miss Parkinson kneeling on you, Hermione," Madame Pomfrey said softly. "I gave you some Skele-Gro last night to heal the break, and I bandaged you to make sure they grew the right way. The ribs are fine, but you're going to have some pretty serious bruising for a while. Nothing I can do about that," she said with a sad shrug.

Hermione nodded. She knew she was lucky to be alive. It was a heady thing, to know that being alive was something that she now had to be thankful for, instead of being taken for granted.

"What about the one who did this to her?" Draco asked suddenly, disgust and anger colouring his voice. "What will happen to her?"

Madame Pomfrey's lips tightened in anger. "She is not yet seventeen, so unfortunately we cannot deliver the standard punishment for those who cast an Unforgivable Curse on another, which is a life's sentence in Azkaban."

"So they're just going to let her go free? Just like that? Oh no, she's a _young _monster, she can just go free? Is that how it is? I tell you, if my father ever hears of this…" Draco shouted.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Mr Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey scolded. "Of course she's not going to go free."

"So then what are they going to do?" Draco demanded.

"She will be locked in a high-security cell at St. Mungo's, where she will be treated as a patient suffering from a mental instability. She will be watched around the clock and given medications to make sure she doesn't pose a threat to others or herself. When she comes of age, she will be escorted to Azkaban, where she will spend the rest of her life at the mercy of the Dementors."

"Good," Draco growled, wrapping an arm around Hermione's waist. "I hope she rots there."

"Her wand has already been confiscated and snapped in two. Dumbledore is currently signing her expulsion papers. Is that enough revenge for you?" Madame Pomfrey asked him wryly.

Draco nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Now take Miss Granger down to your dorm room and make sure she gets lots of sleep." Madame Pomfrey ordered, shooing Hermione away.

Draco nodded and looped his arm through hers, helping her through the door. When they reached a turn in the corridor, Hermione began to veer left, toward her dorm room, before she was stopped by Draco.

"What are you doing?" She asked him, confused. "Gryffindor Tower is this way."

"Do you seriously think I'm going to let you out of my sight at all while Pugface Pansy isn't completely restrained? You're coming to my room." He said, tugging her down the right-hand corridor.

She pulled her arm out of his and folded them across her chest.

"Draco, don't be ridiculous. I'm not in that much danger, and I'm not even that hurt. This is all just sore muscles and superficial scrapes and bruises. I'm fine." She replied in her no-arguments voice.

"This isn't just about you, Hermione!" Draco shouted, surprising her with his vehemence and making her flinch at the volume of his voice. She took a step back, shocked. Draco didn't yell at her. Not ever. What was wrong with him?

As soon as he saw how his tone had affected her, Draco lowered his voice, his eyes turning gentle and his face dropping its angry mask, replaced by an honest vulnerability that brought tears to Hermione's eyes.

"What is it about, then?" she asked him softly.

He lowered his eyes and took a step toward her. "Hermione, when I walked into that bathroom and Harry pulled the bitch off you, I thought for a minute… I thought I'd lost you. I was shaking you and saying your name, and in the minute it took you to respond and open your eyes, I felt terribly certain you were gone. And in that time, the world was so much darker than before. I realised how much you meant to me and how much light you gave my life. And how if I ever lost you, then living would be a difficult thing for me to keep doing. I never grew up in a house filled with love and warmth, Hermione. My parents are cold people, and Malfoy Manor is even colder. My childhood was tainted with blood prejudice and darkness and promises of power. I didn't know love or light or innocence, and now that I have you and I know what it's like to feel love and have that love returned, I could never go back to the cold place I was in before. I could never be content with that again. You have changed me, Hermione Granger, and it is an irreversible change, a change that has shifted the most basic and fundamental aspects of my personality. Like magma that flows beneath the crust of the Earth, the way I feel about you has coursed through me, drastically altering my core and even causing changes to my outward appearance – blood in my cheeks when I touch you, a bounce in my walk when I think of you. And if I lost you, and all of that along with it, well… I couldn't bear it Hermione. I've never said this to anyone before, but – I love you. I love you and I can't lose you, and while there's a chance of someone taking you away from me, you're staying with me."

Hermione looked at him, stunned. All kinds of emotions were running through her, and her insides felt gooey and there were butterflies in her stomach and her heart had wings. He'd said it. He'd really said it. She stepped forward and took him in her arms, tears spilling over her cheeks and whispered in his ear: "Oh, Draco. I love you too. So much."

Gently, Draco pulled her head away from his shoulder and stared down into her eyes, filled with tears and love. Consumed with emotion, he drew her face up to his and his lips met hers with a passion that took both of their breaths away. These kisses were not like the rest they had shared – these were desperate, crushing, consuming, both trying to taste as much of each other as possible, trying to express the same phrase through the kisses – _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Draco picked her up around the waist and she wrapped her legs around him, neither of them parting their lips from the other. He backed her against the wall, the remains of her ball gown tangled up in her legs as she clung to him tighter, getting as close as possible. Draco trailed kisses down her neck, giving her shivers up her spine and she returned to his mouth with a fury.

When they finally pulled away from each other, panting, Hermione saw a new light in Draco's eyes that hadn't been there before as he drank her in with his eyes. The haunted look was gone as he lowered her down to the ground, whispering "I love you."

Hermione felt like she could never tire of hearing those words. Smiling, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her down the corrido that led to the Slytherin dorm rooms.

They had almost reached the dungeons when suddenly Dumbledore of all people stepped into their paths.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," he greeted them, nodding. "I am so sorry to interrupt you when I am certain you want nothing more than to go to bed, but I regret to inform you that you are both needed urgently up in my office."

Draco and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"Needed for what, Professor?" Hermione asked, polite as ever.

"Victim and witness statements," Dumbledore answered. "Harry is already up there waiting for you. The password is _sugar quill_. I will see you up there shortly."

And with that, Dumbledore hurried off.

"I guess that nap is going to be postponed," Hermione said wryly as she and Draco sped toward Dumbledore's office.

When they reached the griffin that guarded the headmaster's office, Hermione took a deep breath, uttered the password, and she and Draco made their way up the stairs into the most intimidating setting Hermione had ever been in.

Seated at Dumbledore's great mahogany desk was the Minister of Magic. On either side of him stood the entire Wizengamot, and seated over at the side of the room was the school board, amongst them, with a look of disgust and rage twisting his features sat Draco's own father, Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione felt her whole body break out in a cold sweat. There she stood, holding hands with Draco Malfoy while his father watched from the other side of the room. She tried to let go of Draco and sidestep away, but Draco's hand tightened around hers. Panicked, she looked over at him to see what he was trying to do. His face looked pale and intimidated but determined. Hermione left her hand in his and continued surveying the room. There was a door in the wall over on the left side of the room, guarded by two Aurors. That was where Pansy was being held, Hermione guessed. Over on the far right hand corner of the room stood Harry. Relieved to see him, Hermione rushed over and gave him a hug. He hugged her back and held her at arm's length, surveying her from head to toe.

"You're okay?" He asked her, frantically.

"I'm fine. Thank you so much for saving me, Harry," Hermione replied, tearfully. "If it weren't for you and Draco, I'd be dead."

He smiled and ruffled her hair. "Anytime, Hermione. You know that."

"So what is all this?" Draco asked, joining them in their corner.

"Just a formality," Harry responded. "They know Pansy is guilty, they just need witnesses and a victim statement to be able to sentence her. They've got her wand so they can see what her last spell was."

"What? I thought they snapped her wand?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Not yet. They need it for evidence, and then they can destroy it. Don't worry, Hermione," Harry reassured her. "You're safe."

Draco wrapped an arm around her. "I'll never let anyone touch you again." He vowed, glancing over at Lucius, who was still staring daggers at his son and Hermione.

The trio were jolted out of their conversation by the Minister standing up and banging a gavel on the desk.

"Now that we have the victim and witnesses present, I call this trial to order. Could the victim please make her way up to the stand and hand her wand over to the Minister."

Hermione gulped and made her way up the stand at the front of the crowd. Hands shaking, she handed her wand over to the Minister and turned to face the room.

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you swear that you have nothing to hide and that your testimony is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" asked the Minister, who Hermione realised was acting as the judge.

Hermione swallowed, and answered "I do."

"Hermione Jean Granger, if you have nothing to hide, are you willing to co-operate with us and consume three drops of Veritaserum?" the Minister asked.

"I will take Veritaserum." Hermione said.

"Finally, do you understand the consequences of this decision? Are you fully aware that this decision will reveal the truth of any question we ask you? Some questions may be personal. Do you still agree?" The Minister asked.

"I do." Hermione said again.

"Very good. Lucius, please bring up the vial of Veritaserum."

_Oh no,_ Hermione thought. _Not him._

Anxiously, Hermione stood there while Lucius Malfoy approached her with a vial filled with a clear liquid and a scowl fixed on his face. When he had reached her, he unstoppered the bottle and administered three drops from the dropper into Hermione's mouth. She swallowed thickly. It was tasteless and watery – in fact, it was just like she had swallowed three drops of water. Lucius stepped back with a satisfied smirk on his face and returned to his place.

"Now," the Minister began, facing Hermione, "What was the build-up to the events of last night? Had you and the accused had any former altercations?"

As Hermione opened her mouth to answer, a most curious sensation gripped her. It was as if the words she was going to say had turned to bricks inside her belly, and they were being pulled out like a fish after it's been caught. She could do nothing to stop the flow of words from her mouth, so she just listened. She listened to herself talk about the anonymous notes and her terror and the threats. Finally the Minister interrupted her.

"Why, Miss Granger, did you not report this to anyone?" the Minister asked in disbelief..

"I was afraid that would make is worse," Hermione heard herself say. "I told Harry and Draco and Ron about it, and they kept me safe, but I knew if I told a teacher, then whoever it was would make it worse. I was already scared. I didn't want things to get worse."

"Understandable," the Minister conceded. "Now, lead me through the events of last night."

Hermione described her fear and how everybody shot daggers at her when she arrived with Draco. She talked about the bathroom break and how she was confronted by Pansy. She told the Wizengamot about how Pansy had pulled it all off – she recited every word of the conversation. Hermione didn't even know that she'd memorised it, but apparently the Veritaserum had. She recounted how it had felt when Pansy had cast the Cruciatus Curse on her, and how Pansy had told her she was going to kill her. She described Harry and Draco coming to the rescue. She described everything until the point where she lost consciousness and could remember no more. The Wizengamot and the Minister listened to Hermione's story with enraptured expressions. When she had finished, the Minister stood up and handed Hermione's wand back to her.

"The victim may be seated. I now call forward the witnesses, Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy to the stand. Please hand over your wands on arrival." The Minister said.

Relived, Hermione slunk to the back of the room where she could not be seen. She watched Harry and Draco take the same oath she had and watched another member of the Wizengamot administer the Veritaserum.

Draco went first. He described Hermione's fear about the threats, how he had noticed her jumping at every sound and losing sleep. He recounted the ball, how people had been shocked into silence at his arrival with Hermione, and her extra-long bathroom break. He talked about how he and Harry had gone looking for her and found Hermione pinned to the ground by Pansy, who was casting the Cruciatus Curse on her. He described how Harry had tackled Pansy and taken her wand off her, pinning her arms behind her back and restraining her. He recounted the panic he had felt when he saw Hermione's battered form lying unconscious on the ground, and how he had taken her to Madame Pomfrey. The Minister nodded the whole way through, but Hermione noticed Lucius's expression becoming more and more malicious as the story progressed. She got chills down her spine. _I am afraid of that man_, Hermione thought.

Then it was Harry's turn. His story started differently – he described his suspicion of Hermione, and how shocked and angry he was when he discovered her relationship with Draco. _Then _he went on to talk about the threats and the attack. His story was identical to Draco's and hers – it filled her with hope. With such substantial witness evidence, there was no way Pansy could go free. Finally the two boys were dismissed. They joined Hermione, and she greeted them with encouraging smiles and squeezes of the hand.

Eventually, the Minister stood up. "The stories all corroborate perfectly, however, we do require physical evidence to punish the accused. Thankfully enough we have some – in the form of Miss Parkinson's wand."

The Minister reached into his robes and produced a familiar wand – Pansy's wand. The Minister held it up and uttered "_Prior Incantato_". From the end of Pany's wand shot threads of green light which formed a ghostly image – Hermione screaming on the ground, the sound of Pansy's voice shouting _"Crucio!"_ before the green smoke dissipated, leaving the room silent.

"Well then, there can be no doubt," the Minister said. "The Minister of Magic and the Wizengamot find the accused guilty of casting an Unforgivable Curse on Hermione Jean Granger. She is hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and her wand is to be destroyed. She will be submitted to St. Mungo's, where she will be treated as insane, and when she reaches the age of 17, she will be sentenced for life to Azkaban. Could the Aurors please bring out the guilty party."

Hermione hugged Draco and Harry, smiling broadly. _It's over,_ she thought, elated. _I don't have to be afraid anymore._

She watched as the Aurors guarding the little room opened the door and entered the room where Pansy was being held. She heard some commotion coming from the room and one of the Aurors ran out, looking panicked.

"Minister, she's not in there! Pansy Parkinson is missing! And… I don't know how, Minister, but… she's got my wand!"

Panic shot through Hermione. Draco and Harry looked at her, wild-eyed.

_She's still out there, _Hermione thought as tears welled up in her eyes and began to spill over. _And this time, she won't make any mistakes._

_This time, she's going to kill me._


	14. Chapter 14: The Serpent and the Lion

_**Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long! I've tried to make this chapter extra-long to make up for it! **_

Hermione tiredly plodded up the stairs to her dorm room, counting the steps until she could fall into bed. It had been a nastily exhausting day - Snape had been in a particularly foul mood, and she had been burdened with three extra assignments and a surprise test for History of Magic. She pushed the door to her room open and stepped inside, turning around the close the door behind her.

When she turned back around to face the room, her stomach dropped into her shoes as Pansy Parkinson stepped from the shadows, wielding not a wand but a wickedly sharp knife that glinted in the moonlight as she approached.

"It's time to finish what I started, Mudblood." She growled, a manic smile plastered on her face as she lunged toward Hermione, the pointed edge of the steel aimed directly at her.

Hermione gasped as she felt the cold steel enter her belly, slashing her insides as Pansy twisted the knife into her intestines like gruesome spaghetti. She fell to her knees, her robes soaked in her own blood, her vision blackening around the edges, her breathing reduced to short gasps as she lay in a pool of her own blood, feeling the life leave her.

The last thing she saw before her vision failed her was Pansy, standing above her, the knife still in her hand, smeared with the same scarlet liquid that stained her robes.

"Your blood isn't as dirty as I thought it would be, Mudblood." Pansy cackled.

Hermione let out a sob, coughed once, and didn't draw breath again.

Hermione awoke suddenly, gasping and thrashing in her blankets. Her sheets were soaked in sweat and she struggled to get free, sobbing in a blind panic.

"_Lumos Maxima!"_ someone beside her cried, and the darkened bedroom flooded with light. Hermione swivelled around to see Draco sitting up in bed beside her, holding his wand which illuminated the room.

"Draco," she sobbed, falling into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her.

"Shh," he soothed, stroking her hair. "Shh. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. She can't hurt you."

Slowly, Hermione calmed down and the weeping ceased. When she was clearheaded, she sat up and evaluated her surroundings. For a moment she was confused – why were the walls draped in blue? Whose textbooks were those stacked on the shelves? Why was her bedspread blue? Why was Draco in bed beside her? – until she remembered that yes, that's right, they were currently staying in Ravenclaw Tower as a protection measure.

After they had discovered that Pansy had escaped, Dumbledore had decided to take every precaution necessary to keep Hermione safe from Pansy's wrath. After a short discussion, it was decided that she couldn't stay in the Slytherin common room because Pansy was a Slytherin and would have unlimited access to that dorm room. Hufflepuff was ruled out, too, because it was too easy to gain entry to. In the end, Ravenclaw won out, because both Hermione and Draco were smart enough to answer the questions required to gain entry to the common room, and Hermione had friends in Ravenclaw who would keep an eye on her. Until Pansy was recaptured, Hermione would be staying with Draco in Ravenclaw Tower, and they would both be magically changing their appearances every day so that they did not resemble themselves and would not be recognised by Pansy if she was watching. Until she was found, Hermione and Draco would essentially be living as Ravenclaws, donning their robes and eating at their tables.

Hermione took in the room - the books on the shelves, the blue robes on the chair next to her, the walls draped in blue, adorned with the Ravenclaw eagle.

_This is the life I would have had if the Sorting Hat had chosen a little differently, _Hermione thought, pulling the blanket back over her and lying down, still wrapped in Draco's arms.

"_Nox,"_ Draco said, extinguishing the light that filled the room and placing his wand back on his bedside table.

Hermione lay in the dark, still in Draco's warm embrace, thinking about the position she was in. Suddenly, it occurred to her that _she was in bed with Draco!_ He was wearing nothing but long, emerald green silk pants, with no shirt. His skin was warm where she touched it, and she realised that they were truly alone for the first time ever – every other time, they had had to go to class, or watch out for her stalker. It also occurred to her that she was wearing nothing but her Weasley sweater and little sleep shorts. This knowledge made her excited and afraid at the same time. What would happen because of this sleeping arrangement? What had she agreed to here?

"Draco?" she whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Hermione rolled over so that she was lying on top of him, straddling his hips. In the dark, she saw his eyes widen.

"Now I'm _definitely _awake," he said, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her down into a fierce kiss that took Hermione's breath away. He rolled over so that she lay underneath him, still kissing her with the kind of passion he had never displayed before, and Hermione was responding, kissing him back harder than she ever had before, running her hands over his chiselled body, causing him to shudder into her mouth as she teased the sensitive skin of his back.

"I love you," he mumbled as he let his hands roam on the bare skin under her sweater, causing her heart to beat in double time. She flipped him back over so that she was on top of him, kissing his neck with such intensity that he moaned softly. She trailed kisses down his torso, stopping when she got to his hips and going back to his mouth.

_How far am I willing to go with this? _She thought as she kissed him. _At what point do I stop?_

Her question was answered for her immediately as his fingertips dipped below the waistline of her shorts. She froze up, and he moved his hands back to her hips straight away.

"I'm sorry," he said, his cheeks flushed in the darkness, sounding breathless. "I didn't mean to go too far – I got carried away. I would never disrespect you, Hermione – I love you and I want you to be comfortable."

"It's okay," she said, smoothing his hair back. "You didn't do anything wrong – I'm just not ready for that yet. I love you too, Draco. So so much."

He smiled softly and kissed her gently, pulling her into his arms as he lay back down on the bed, tucking them both in.

"Try to sleep now." He told her, kissing the top of her head.

Hermione smiled as she drifted back into sleep, this time free of nightmares.

When Hermione woke up, it was to the sight of Draco standing in front of the mirror, dressed in royal blue Ravenclaw robes. The sight of it jarred her – she was used to seeing him in his Slytherin green. This new look brought out the grey in his eyes and softened his face so that it didn't look quite so severe. He also didn't seem quite so pale, but he looked taller and more – _regal_. And he hadn't even actually changed his appearance yet.

"Good morning, handsome," she said, getting out of bed and picking up her own Ravenclaw robes.

"Good morning, beautiful," he replied with a smile.

Hermione threw him a smile as she ducked into the bathroom to get changed. When she had donned the blue garments, she turned and faced the mirror. _I don't look too bad in blue, really, _she thought as she smoothed the front of her robe. Staring at her reflection, she was reminded that this would have been her House, if the sorting Hat had not decided that she was more brave than she was smart – which meant she must have been very brave.

Glancing at her reflection one last time, Hermione walked back into the bedroom where Draco waited with his wand.

"Ready?" he asked, picking up his wand and touching the tip of her nose with it. Hermione nodded.

"You first," he said, moving his wand so that it rested on the roots of her hair. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on the heat that radiated from the tip of Draco's wand, and enjoyed the oddly pleasant sensation of her hair growing, becoming les frizzy and feeling her curls soften into a more elegant style. It felt like someone playing with her locks, gently tugging and twisting, she reflected.

He moved his wand to her closed eyelids next. She didn't feel anything apart from the ever-constant warmth of the wand, but she knew that her eyes were changing colour. She felt his wand move down to her lips, making them fuller and altering her teeth somehow. Hermione didn't know what he was doing to her teeth – she had already altered them herself, a year ago. His wand touched the soft skin of her cheeks and inside her arms, and finally, her nose, where she felt the cartilage change shape – an uncomfortable sensation that gave Hermione the shivers.

"Open your eyes," Draco said. Hermione flicked her eyes open and stared into the mirror at Draco's handiwork.

Her hair was a platinum blonde that tumbled down to her waist in elegant curls. The freckles that had once adorned her face and arms had vanished. Her nose had shrunk, and turned up slightly at the tip. Her eyes were a vibrant blue, and framed with thick lashes. Her lips were full, and when she smiled, she could see that her teeth were spaced a little more widely apart.

She looked utterly unrecognizable.

"I'm beautiful," Hermione whispered.

"Yes, " Draco said. "You are."

Hermione felt her spirits drop as she turned to face him.

"Do you like me better like this?" she asked him, sounding casual but feeling anything but.

"No," He answered, straight-faced.

"But you just said I looked beautiful… Draco, I don't look like myself and you said I was beautiful. You must like me better like this," She said, her throat feeling thick as she tried to fight tears.

"No," he disagreed, cupping her face in his hands. "I said _you_ were beautiful. _You _are not the body you live in – _You _are your sense of humour that never fails to make me laugh. _You_ are the brilliant brain I love so much, not the face in front of it. _You_ are the passion with which you kiss me that always surprises me. _You_ are that spark in your eyes when you're learning something new, not the colour of them. _You _are beautiful. I couldn't care less about the body you wear."

Hermione couldn't think of anything to say.

"I love you." She finally said, stepping forward to brush back his hair.

"I wasn't finished," he said, kissing her softly. "It doesn't matter what body you wear, but the one you do have is gorgeous. Not this new girl. The real you. I love your freckles – they're like gorgeous ornaments draped over your skin. I love your brown hair – I've always had a thing for brunettes, did you know?" he asked her, grinning. "I could get lost in your chocolate brown eyes, and your lips are the softest things I've ever touched, and your teeth give me the most winning smiles and the real Hermione Granger is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Hermione stepped forward into his arms, burying her face against his shoulder.

"I love you," she said again.

"I love you too," he answered.

"Your turn," she announced, stepping back and picking up her wand. Draco obediently closed his eyes and stood still.

Hermione began with his hair, watching it lengthen and darken, turning it into a chocolate brown which curled around his ears. Moving her wand to his closed eyelids, she made his eyes the same colour as his hair and his eyelashes a light brown. She continued down to his chin, squaring his jaw to get rid of his very signature pointed face. Finally, she waved her wand over the length of his body, turning his skin into a normal healthy tan instead of its usual pallor. Standing back, Hermione surveyed her work.

"One more thing," she said, running her wand over his jawline and watching with satisfaction as the barest hint of stubble showed itself.

"You can open your eyes now," she told him. He flicked his lids open and stood in front of the mirror, examining his reflection.

"I look… _pretty_" he said in a complaining tone.

"What's wrong with pretty?" Hermione asked.

"I _never _look pretty!" he answered. "I'm a _Malfoy_! We look proud and blonde and severe and businesslike. I have _ringlets!" _he said, tugging on his curls and watching them spring back into place.

"They're not ringlets," Hermione scoffed. "Anyway, it's a good thing you look different. Pansy won't recognise you if you look different."

Draco sighed. "I suppose you're right," he said resignedly, picking up his wand and stowing it in the pocket of his robes while Hermione did the same. "Let's go get breakfast."

Walking into the Great Hall and turning right towards the Ravenclaw table instead of left towards the Gryffindor table was the oddest thing she had ever done. Nonetheless, Hermione and Draco walked over to the table draped in blue and took a seat between Luna Lovegood and Cho Chang, Harry's old girlfriend.

"Good morning," Luna greeted her in the polite tones of a stranger. Cho didn't say anything.

_That's right, _Hermione remembered. _They don't know it's me_.

"Luna," Hermione whispered. Luna looked up, confused that this strange girl knew her name but not as surprised as she should be – she was Luna Lovegood, after all.

"Luna, it's me. It's, it's – Hermione."

"_Hermione?_ " Luna whispered. "That's right, I do remember Professor Dumbledore telling me that you would be in disguise with Draco Malfoy, wow you look so different Hermione, which spell was that? I wonder…" she said. Hermione recognised the familiar beginnings of Luna's rambling, so she cut her off.

"This is Draco next to me, Luna," Hermione said, pointing at Draco.

"Oh, hello there, sir" Luna greeted him. Draco looked uncomfortable.

"Listen Luna, this needs to stay top secret, okay? Nobody but you and Cho can know. Can you keep this a secret for me?" Hermione asked.

"Oh! Oh, of course, Hermione! Nobody's ever asked me to keep a secret for them before, oh how _exciting!_ Okay Hermione, I'll keep your secret for you! Oh, I can't _wait_!" Luna replied excitedly.

"I'll be using a fake name, so I need you to call me Daisy whenever you're talking to me, okay?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, Her-_Daisy!_ I promise I won't slip up!" Luna assured her.

"Good," Hermione said. "Now, can you please turn to Cho and tell her everything I just told you? Oh, and Draco's fake name is Charlie. Can you tell her that too?" Hermione asked.

"Of course!" Luna answered, and turned to Cho and began whispering. When she was finished, Cho looked up and Hermione and Draco with wide eyes, and nodded once.

Going to class was tense. Draco and Hermione stuck by Cho and Luna whenever possible - they had decided it didn't matter if students saw them together, because nobody knew who they were.

Draco and Hermione walked into Potions alongside Luna, and Draco automatically began to make his way toward their usual table before Hermione stopped him with a look. Resignedly, he joined Hermione and Luna in the middle of the room. Their usual spots seemed conspicuously empty as Snape stalked into the room, his face twisted as if he'd just tasted a particularly awful Bertie Bott Bean.

Hermione fidgeted nervously in her chair as Snape threw a contemptuous look at her and Draco's empty seats. The story that every student and teacher aside from Dumbledore, Cho Chang and Luna Lovegood believed was that Draco and Hermione had been carted off to witness protection in the Muggle world.

_Lucky Draco and I are both smart,_ Hermione thought as Snape began to explain the complicated process of brewing _Felix Felicis, _the powerful potion that granted good luck to any who consumed it. When he called on the Ravenclaws for an answer, Hermione and Draco blended in seamlessly with all the others wearing blue robes with raised hands. Even so, it was still a huge relief to walk out of that room when class was dismissed. Hermione felt as though she had had an axe hanging over her head, suspended by the finest of silk threads, ready to snap at any moment and expose her, and that now she had walked away, leaving the axe behind her. From the look on Draco's face, he felt the same way.

They were about to enter the Great Hall for lunch when Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty side corridor.

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked him.

"Can we sneak out tonight, 'Mione?" he asked, almost plaintively.

"Sneak out where?" she asked him.

"The secluded place by the lake, the one I took you to for our first date? Come on, please? I'm so sick of pretending I'm not in love with you, and I miss seeing your real face, and I'm sick of calling you _Daisy_." He replied.

Hermione understood how he felt – Merlin knew she felt the same way. "I know, Draco, but the risk is just so high."

"I have a plan," he told her with a smile.

Hermione crossed her arms but smiled back, cocking her hip to the side. "Let's hear it, then."

Draco's grin broadened. "Tonight, we get dressed however we want and wear our Ravenclaw robes over the top. Then, we get on my broom and fly out the window. We will still be disguised as Daisy and Charlie, so if anybody sees us they won't know who it is. Once we get to the place at the lake, we get off my broom, and in the shelter of the trees, transform back into ourselves and take off our robes, revealing Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger on a hot date." He finished, sounding proud.

Hermione was impressed. "Okay," she said, feeling suddenly more excited about the night to come. " I'll go."

She leaned in and kissed him lightly before making their way into the Great Hall and over to the Ravenclaw table.

_Time really does drag when you have something to look forward to,_ Hermione reflected as she hurriedly made her way to Arithmancy with the rest of the Ravenclaws, a pile of books clutched to her chest. Arithmancy was her final lesson for the day, and, unsurprisingly, the class was mostly made up of Ravenclaws. Hermione took her seat at the front of the room between Draco and Luna. Cho sat on the other side of Draco, and Hermione noticed some of the other girls throwing her envious looks. _Back off, _Hermione thought protectively. _He's mine._

Arithmancy passed in a flurry of numbers and symbols that stretched her brain in a way that most subjects didn't, and before she knew it, she was being dismissed by her professor. A feeling of excitement jolted through Hermione's stomach. _Three hours until my date with Draco! _She thought, silently exulting in the idea of being herself with the boy she loved, all alone.

Dinner was a spectacle of different types of seafood, ranging from fish to crab to prawn to lobster, each served with a pot of delicious dipping sauce. Hermione ate as much as she could hold and sprinted up to her dorm room in Ravenclaw Tower to get ready to meet Draco. There wasn't much she could do to her face or hair, being disguised as Daisy, but she donned a red cotton dress that had long sleeves and stopped just below her knee. She knew that it would look great on her once she was back to herself. Hurriedly, she put her blue Ravenclaw robes on over the dress, and walked out to the common room filled with studying students. Scanning the room, she spotted Draco seated on one of the couches in front of the fireplace. He leaped to his feet when he saw her, and, jerking his head to the side, bid her to follow him. She complied, butterflies rioting in her stomach as she let him lead her up a set of spiral stairs that circled Ravenclaw Tower, stopping in front of a window near the top.

"Ready?" he asked her, pulling his broomstick from its hiding place behind the curtain.

"I'm so ready!" she replied, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Draco opened the window and mounted his Nimbus Two Thousand and One, flying out of Ravenclaw Tower and into the waiting arms of the darkness outside. He maneuvered the broom so that it was on a parallel with the window and Hermione clambered through and seated herself behind him on the broom, sliding her arms around his waist.

And they took off.

This was not the first time Hermione had ridden with Draco on his Nimbus through the night, but it was no less exhilarating. She felt her spirits soar in a way they hadn't since the Christmas ball, and a shout of joy tore out of her of its own accord. The cold night air whipped against her face, blowing her new blonde hair every direction and turning the tip of her nose pink.

Draco pointed the nose of the broom toward their secret alcove by the lake, and slowly they made their decent onto the little beach that ringed it. Breathless, Hermione dismounted the broom and made her way into the hidden section where she and Draco had shared their first date.

Draco pulled out his wand and touched it to the roots of Hermione's hair, and she experienced the sensation of water running down her bod, washing Daisy away and leaving only Hermione. Draco smiled when he saw her true form appear.

"Your turn," she said, placing her wand on his brown curls and murmuring the incantation that undid the spells they had placed upon themselves that morning. She watched Charlie melt away and was left with Draco –_ her _Draco – standing in front of her.

"Welcome back," she said, drawing him inter her arms.

"I missed you," he said, kissing the top of her frizzy brown locks.

Hermione pulled away and looked up at him. Grinning, she drew her blue Ravenclaw robes over her head and let them fall on the ground, leaving her in the red wool dress. She had the satisfaction of seeing Draco's eyes widen as he took her in.

"You look stunning in red, my little Gryffindor," he said, pulling his own robes over his head and leaving them in a pool by his feet. "I'd almost forgotten."

Draco was clad in one of his black suits, looking as regal and gorgeous as ever with his hands in his pockets and a smile affixed to his face.

"I bought you something," he said suddenly, drawing his hand out of his pocket, clutching a black jewellery box. Hermione's heart fluttered as he opened the box, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh- It's _beautiful _, Draco! Thank you so much!"

Nestled in the box was a golden bracelet with the words _et leonem et draconem _inscribed around the band. Gently, Draco lifted it from the box and slid it onto Hermione's wrist, watching the lettering catch the moonlight.

"What does this mean? _Et leonem et draconem? _I know it's Latin, but I'm unsure of the translation."

Draco twined his fingers with hers and let his forehead touch the tip of her own.

"It means _the serpent and the lion_," Draco answered, looking strangely vulnerable. "I thought it was fitting."

Hermione's heart melted, and she drew her face up to his, catching him in a forceful kiss. She tried to say everything she couldn't put into words in that kiss – her gratitude for such a perfect gift, her love for him, how grateful she was that he was unfailingly there for her through all her turmoil with Pansy Parkinson.

"Thank you for not letting me handle Pansy alone," Hermione said when they broke away, breathless. "I'm sorry I'm not dealing well with it."

"Hey," he said, drawing her chin up with the tips of his fingers. "You're so strong already; we're just stronger together, okay? We're a team. Nothing can split us apart."

"_et leonem et draconem," _Hermione whispered.

"The serpent and the lion," he agreed.


	15. Chapter 15: Endgame

_There's really nothing better than waking up next to the person you love after the greatest date ever_, Hermione mused sleepily as she rolled over under the covers of her four-post canopy bed in Ravenclaw Tower. Draco was still asleep beside her, his fair hair mussed and his face relaxed and peaceful with his mouth slightly open. Hermione smiled and leaned over, planting a light kiss on his cheek. He cracked his eyelids open slightly and looked up at her, a smile forming on his face.

"Good morning, handsome," she said.

"mmmph," he replied, rolling over onto his stomach so his face was buried in his pillow.

Grinning wickedly, Hermione snatched the covers off him, exposing him in nothing but his green silk pyjama bottoms, and whacked him with a pillow. Draco curled up in a ball, making complaining noises as she assaulted him with the pillow again and again, until, finally, he sat upright and tackled her back onto the mattress, pinning her arms above her.

"Good morning," he said, leaning in and lightly kissing her.

"Awake now, are we?" she teased, trying futilely to squirm out of his ironclad grip.

"That happens when you're brutally assaulted with an instrument of torture," he replied, jerking his head toward the pillow she'd been hitting him with.

Hermione laughed. "Is a pillow now an instrument of torture?" she inquired sarcastically.

He grinned. "It is when you use it."

She stuck her tongue out at him as he rolled off her and out of bed, walking over to the mirror and examining his reflection.

He turned to her. "I guess it's time to say goodbye to this sexy beast" – he said, gesturing to himself – "and say hello to innocent pretty-boy Charlie Bucket."

She gaped at him. "You know Roald Dahl?" she asked, incredulous. She didn't think pure-blood Draco knew _anything_ about the Muggle world.

He seemed confused. "Of course I do. He caused quite a stir years ago by violating the International Statue of Secrecy with those books of his, talking all about the wizarding world and the things we could do. Poor old Willy Wonka had to go into hiding after _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ hit the shelves. He's the biggest disgrace in the wizarding world!" he said, as though this should be obvious.

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Dahl was a _wizard?_"

Draco seemed more confused than ever. "Of course," he said. "Thank God he's locked away in Azkaban where we don't have to suffer his presence."

She nearly fell off the bed. "Roald Dahl is _alive?_ I thought he died in 1990!"

Draco grinned, shaking his head mockingly. "Some Ravenclaw you are!" he said.

He was rewarded for this comment with a particularly vicious hit to the head with the pillow Hermione had been holding. Laughing, Draco ducked into the bathroom to change his robes.

"So, wait," Hermione said, scrambling after him. "_Charlie and the Chocolate Factory _is REAL?" she said, her voice rising with excitement. "The chocolate river and the Oompa Loompas and everything?"

"Well, the so-called Oompa Loompas were actually house-elves and a couple of goblins, but yes," Draco said, his voice muffled by the robes he was pulling over his head.

"And the room where everything is edible?" she demanded.

"Hermione," Draco began, sounding amused and exasperated, "You go to a magic school of magic. We have ghosts wandering the halls and we fly on broomsticks. Why is it that this is the most impossible thing you've heard since coming to Hogwarts?"

"Oh. Right," She said, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Draco leaned over and kissed the redness.

"Come on," he said, pulling her to her feet, "Time to face the day."

Half an hour later, Draco and Hermione, disguised yet again as Daisy and Charlie, found themselves seated at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, between Luna and Cho. Both girls greeted them as they sat down, and there were a couple of other familiar smiles thrown their way. She and Draco had managed to make a couple of new friends as Daisy and Charlie, although she wasn't stupid enough to tell them her secret. She felt bad for lying, but what else was she supposed to do?

Their first class was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She knew who Hermione and Draco were, but kept a straight face and greeted them with nothing more than a nod when they sat down together.

The monotony of her days was beginning to bore Hermione. If she was going to go about her everyday life like this, she wanted to do it as herself, not as Daisy. And she missed Draco's face. Every day she spent looking over her shoulder in paranoia, and every day passed without incident. Being scared for no reason was exhausting her, she reflected and she could see it was doing the same thing to Draco.

The most exciting thing happening in their lives was their nights, which they could spend as themselves, curled around each other in peaceful sleep. That was the best part of all of this, she thought. They were basically living together. Sighing with boredom, Hermione slumped on her desk and put her head in her arms, looking out at another boring day.

When Draco entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening, Hermione wasn't at the table, so he decided to wait for her in their usual seats. When he sat down, however, he heard the crinkle of paper underneath his empty plate. Casting furtive glances at the people beside him to make sure nobody was looking, he unfolded the note and read the inscription scribbled there: _Meet me in the Astronomy Tower after dinner. Let's make this a night to remember. Xo, H._

Draco felt a smile creep across his face. "I love you," he whispered to himself as he discreetly burned the note underneath the table.

Dinner was the longest meal of Draco's life. If he left too early, it would look suspicious, and the same could be said if he left too late. So he pretended to be absorbed in conversation with Cho and Luna, and only got up from the table when a large group of his newfound Ravenclaw friends did. He walked down the hall with him, then quietly broke away from them when he reached the passage that led to the Astronomy Tower. Heart pounding in his chest, he followed the winding staircase up and up and up, up to where his love waited for him.

"Hermione?" He called when he reached the top. The tower was dark, and the large, open window let in a slight breeze that ruffled his brown curls. Cursing, he shoved his hair out of his face. He really hated curls.

"Hello, Draco," said a voice from behind him. Draco stood very still. Chills worked their way up his spine at the sound of her voice. Slowly, deliberately, he turned around to face her.

"Pansy."

She stood half in the shadows, half bathed in moonlight, her pug's face turned up in a sneer. He hated her.

"Where's Hermione?" He demanded, looking around the room desperately.

"Hmm, I don't really know a Hermione, but I do have some bitch who calls herself Daisy," She answered, grinning wickedly.

"If you've hurt her, Pansy, I will kill you," he said, very deliberately.

"No, you won't," She said, her eyes taking on a worrisome glint. "You love me, Draco, and I love you. I'll kill her and then when she's out of the way we'll be together, just like we should be. We belong together."

_She's completely mad,_ Draco realised. He knew she was evil, but he hadn't realised she was certifiably loony until this point. This meant he had to be careful. You can never predict the actions of a crazy person.

"Pansy," He said, stalling for time, "You don't love me, you only think you do. You don't have to do this. It's not real," he said, casually reaching his hand into the pocket of his robes for his wand.

"I do love you," she said, shaking her head back and forth. "The real you, that is."

She whipped her wand up, pointed it at his face and shouted _Revelio! _Draco felt his features shift and change, settling back into their true form. Within seconds, Charlie was gone and Draco stood in his place. Pansy lowered her wand and moved toward him, her eyes shining with something far removed from sanity.

"You're so beautiful," she crooned, her head tilted to the side. "So, so beautiful. Pretty, pretty boy."

A faint whimper from the darkest shadow in the room drew Draco' attention from the insane girl walking toward him.

"Lumos maxima!" he muttered, and the darkened tower was suddenly filled with light.

There, huddled against the wall was Hermione, stripped of her disguise, gagged and bound by lengths of rope. She was bleeding from her face, and he could see her fingertips turning purple where the rope cut off her circulation. Draco's vision was tinted red.

"What did you do to her?" he roared, spinning around to face Pansy again. She smirked.

"She tried to fight me, so I punished her," Pansy answered, as though this was the most reasonable thing in the world.

Draco ran over to where the girl he loved lay and quickly undid the ties that bound her with his wand. He saw Hermione's eyes widen, and looked behind him to see Pansy pointing her stolen wand at her, and screaming "_Crucio!"_

Hermione's back arched in agony for only a second before Draco disarmed her, catching her wand mid-air. Realising she was now wandless, Pansy reached into the pocket of her robes and produced a deadly-looking knife.

"We'll do this the muggle way then," she said, advancing. Draco quickly finished undoing Hermione's gag and turned around to grab Pansy's wrist, which was raised in the air holding the knife.

"So that's it?" she said, looking at the wrist he restrained. "You choose her?"

"I always choose her," he answered, looking straight in her eyes.

"Fine then," she said, anger descending over her expression, "You can die first."

Draco jumped backwards and pulled out his wand, ready. The problem was, he had brought a wand to a knife fight, and didn't really know which spells to use. She advanced on him and swiped the blade at him, and he ducked, causing them to switch positions, her facing the open window and he with his back to it. She tried a couple more swipes, and one caught his chest, slicing a shallow cut through his robes and onto his skin. Blood began to seep from the wound.

Draco decided it was time to end this. He raised his wand to finish her with a _petrificus totalus,_ when he saw a shadow move behind her. As he opened his mouth to utter the incantation, Hermione slipped up behind Pansy and shoved her with all her might toward the open window. Pansy's eyes widened and Draco leaped out of her way. The last thing they both saw before Pansy Parkinson fell to her death through the window of the Astronomy tower was her eyes, full of raw terror as she stared death in the face.

_**Sorry, sorry, a thousand times sorry for the wait on this one! If you like it, please review! I love love love reviews! And if you like my stuff, I've written a few Vampire Diaries oneshots! Check them out! xoxoxoxoxox**_


	16. Chapter 16: Now And Always

The room she shared with Draco was completely silent except for the sounds of Draco's breathing in the bed beside her, and the ruffle of Hermione's sheets as she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Pansy's wide, terrified eyes as she was shoved to her death.

She rolled over in bed yet again and rested her head on her arm, examining Draco's still form beside her. _He had his chest sliced open tonight, and yet he can sleep like a baby, _Hermione scolded herself. Her eyes trailed down from his face to his bare chest, where the wound had been. Of course, it was completely healed now, no evidence of the injury left, no scar to signify what they had been through – Madame Pomfrey had seen to that.

Hermione exhaled sharply and flopped her head back down on the pillow, closing her eyes. Clearing her mind, she tried to focus on nothing but Draco's breathing, and attempted to match her breaths to his. Slowly, she felt her brain begin to slow down as she approached unconsciousness – and was quickly woken by the creak of the door to their bedroom being opened. Heart pounding, Hermione sat up in bed, gasping, and whipped her head around the room.

Nothing. It was empty, the curtains undisturbed, the door firmly shut.

_You dreamed it,_ Hermione told herself sternly. _Go back to sleep._

Exhausted, she lay back down amongst the covers and rubbed at her face. Nestling herself back down to a comfortable position, she rolled over to face the room, and froze when she heard the creak of the door again. Trying to keep her calm, she sat up again, taking deep breaths – and screamed when she saw the figure standing over her bed.

It was Pansy, her head a bloody mess, bone sticking through her leg, her skin purple with bruising. This was how she'd looked after she'd hit the ground.

"Murderer," Pansy said, and her voice was guttural and harsh, not like it had been in life. Hermione began to cry, pulling the covers up to her chin and shrinking back against the headboard.

"I didn't mean to," She whimpered, looking at Pansy's ruined body.

"You killed me. You wanted to kill me – you liked it, you know you did. You're a killer," Pansy growled, reaching out a hand to grab Hermione.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… I never wanted… I'm sorry you're dead, I'm sorry I killed you, I don't want to be a killer, I don't want to…" Hermione cried, pulling away from Pansy's outstretched arm.

"Draco! Draco, wake up, help me!" She wailed, grabbing Draco's shoulder and shaking him hard. No response.

"Draco?" she asked, shaking him harder. Nothing.

Tentatively, she pulled Draco so that he was facing the roof. He flopped over like a dead fish, exposing the long wound on his chest that Pansy had given him, gaping open like a mouth, his eyes, dead and unseeing, staring up at nothing.

"_NO!" _Hermione screamed hysterically.

"You killed him, too," Pansy said roughly. "It's your fault he's dead. When will you see that you hurt everything you touch?" she demanded, smiling a gruesome smile, revealing missing teeth and a dead, purple tongue.

Hermione looked down at Draco's body again, lying in a pool of blood that soaked the sheets and stained her pyjamas. How had she not noticed the blood before? It was everywhere, the harsh redness of her crime on her hands, in her hair, pooling in the bed around them. She began to cry harder, wracking sobs that tore through her chest like the guilt that was consuming her.

"It's your fault… murderer…killer…evil" Pansy intoned, reaching a hand out and grabbing her throat.

"Hermione! Hermione, wake up! Wake up!"

Hermione gasped into consciousness at the sound of Draco's desperate voice. She realised she could feel arms around her, constricting her, and began to fight her way free.

"Hermione! It's me! You're dreaming!" Draco said. Hermione stopped fighting and looked into the face of the person whose arms were around her. Draco's face, healthy and alive brought on a rush of emotion so strong she felt herself sag in his arms.

"Draco. Oh, my god, Draco. Draco," she said, repeating his name over and over, like a prayer, like it was her deliverance. His grey eyes looked down at her with such concern that she was, in that moment, overwhelmed by how much she loved him.

"You're alive. You're okay," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her fiercely.

"Of course I am," he said, his voice muffled because his head was pressed to her throat. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her iron grasp. "You're the one who's not okay, I think," he said gently, setting her hands in her lap.

Hermione looked down at her hands, clenched so hard that her fingers were turning white. She could see the red rawness of her exposed nail beds where she had bitten her nails down to the quick.

"I killed her," she whispered, giving voice to the guilt that had been consuming her since the Astronomy tower.

"Yes," Draco said firmly. "You did. You killed her and saved my life and yours. You killed her and made the school safe again."

"I'm a murderer," she said, feeling the guilt surge through her like poison.

"No, that I will not accept. You are many things, Hermione Granger – a scholar, a witch, a friend, a defender, the love of my life. But a murderer you are not. You saved me. You made a hard decision, but you made the right one. If she tries to tell you otherwise, remember – she's not real. You are real, you are strong, and you are good. And I will not let you believe otherwise." He said, cupping her face with his hands.

Hermione looked into is eyes, willing his words to be true, trying desperately to believe them.

"You are not a murderer," he said again.

"I am not a murderer," she repeated, searching his face for her belief, for her truth, and finding it, again, in his eyes.

"Now, we are going to get dressed, go eat breakfast, and you are going to have fun with Potty and the Weasel, and we are going to sit in class together, and you are going to enjoy your life again, because you are not being hunted anymore." He said, pulling her out of bed and standing her in front of the mirror so he was addressing their reflections.

"Do we get to be ourselves?" She asked hopefully. She was through with pretending.

"Of course," he said, kissing her on the cheek and ducking into the bathroom with his emerald green robes slung over his shoulder.

Robotically, Hermione grabbed her Gryffindor robes from the bottom of her trunk and donned them quickly, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. She had missed the warm colours of her House, she realised. She slung her red-and-gold scarf around her neck and pulled her hair back in a headband. She had even missed her frizzy mane, she realised. Staring at herself in the mirror, she realised that the Sorting Hat had chosen correctly – after everything she had been through, she couldn't doubt her bravery.

Just then, Draco emerged from the bathroom in emerald green, looking so tall and regal and handsome that it took her breath away.

"Believe it or not, I've missed seeing you in your Slytherin colours," she said with a smile.

"I've missed it too," he said, looking down at himself. She knew Draco was extremely proud, and that his House and being who he was brought him pride. She also knew that pretending to be otherwise had taken a toll on him.

Together, they left Ravenclaw Tower for the last time to go eat breakfast with their respective Houses. As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione laced her hand firmly with his. She didn't care if people saw them or talked about them. There were worse thing than being gossiped about – far worse.

With a smile and a squeeze of the hand, she left Draco to go sit with his friends at the Slytherin table, while she craned her neck around for some sign of Harry and Ron. She found them in the middle of the Gryffindor table, engaged in a food fight with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, while Fred and George Weasley cheered them on. Hermione smiled and started toward them, raising her arm in a wave.

Harry was the one who spotted her first. His eyes lit up, and she saw him elbow Ron and point. Ron smiled, and they both started sprinting toward her. She braced herself for impact, and felt the breath go out of her as her two best friends in the world caught her up in a massive group hug. Laughing, she hugged them back, then squealed as they picked her up and carried her over to Gryffindor table, depositing her unceremoniously on the bench between Seamus and Dean.

"Welcome back!" they yelled, ruffling her frizzy hair, much to her annoyance.

Breakfast was loud and chaotic and full of laughter – the Gryffindor way. Her way. She didn't want it to end and groaned when she realised she had to go to Potions, before remembering that she got to sit with Draco for that lesson.

She walked to Potions with long, eager strides, and joined Draco at their table at the front of the class. He greeted her with a kiss, and Hermione heard a few people grumble behind them, but she didn't care.

At that moment, Snape swept into the room, his robes billowing behind him, and stood at the front of the room with his signature expression of displeased sternness settled on his face. All noise in the room ceased immediately.

"For the past month, you have attempted to create the Polyjuice Potion. I say _attempted_, because, for most of you, that means creating some sort of substance that should not, under any circumstances, be used for human consumption. While this is disappointing, it is frankly not surprising, given the spectacular lack of wit or talent that my classroom is filled with. That being said, here are your results." Snape intoned, and with a subtle flick of his wand, the stack of papers next to him floated around the room and settled to their respective partnerships.

Hermione held her breath. She was so nervous about her result that it surprised her. _After everything, I'm still an academic_, she thought to herself.

A sheet of paper drifted slowly over to her table and settled between her and Draco. She looked at the mark scratched in ink over the top of the paper.

_**Result: O (Outstanding)**_

Hermione whipped her head over to Draco, who was grinning at her.

"Nice one, Granger," he said, teasing. "A real nerd."

"Look who's talking, Malfoy," she said, nudging his shoulder.

She glanced at the front of the room and noticed Snape was deliberately not looking in her direction. She could hear the groans of the students who hadn't got the mark they had hoped for. She could see Neville looking down at his result with a dismal expression on his face. The _normalcy_ of the situation brought a smile to her face.

_Things really are going to be alright, _she realised, smiling at Draco, who was flying paper planes across the room to his friend Blaise.

"Hey," she said, leaning over to him.

"Yeah?" Draco answered, smiling, and took her hand.

"Even after everything that happened – I'm really glad Snape paired us for that Potions assignment." She said, reaching over and running her fingers through his white-blond hair.

He smiled at her, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of her palm.

"I love you," he said, still holding her hand against his face. "Now and always."

_Now and always. _

_**So that's the end of the story! Did you guys like the way it ended? Please please please please review! Thank you guys so much for reading and sticking with this story even though I wasn't always the best at updating!**_

_**I want to give a special shout out to coco268 and to thank you for your review! It was the nicest review I have ever received and honestly made me cry. Thank you for loving my story and for sticking with it!**_

_**I have written some Vampire Diaries fanfiction if you guys want to read any more of my stuff, and if you have any requests for a new story, let me know! I love you guys to the moon and back!**_

_**Xoxoxox Steph**_


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